


All Reason Aside

by Hurricanerin



Series: All Reason Aside [1]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Loki laufeyson - Fandom, Lokiverse, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Codependency, Dom Loki, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Eventual Smut, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Loss of Virginity, Loyal to A Fault, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Romance, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricanerin/pseuds/Hurricanerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were children Signe was Loki's lifeline; his closest and dearest friend.  She accepted him unconditionally and treasured him, warts and all.  Loki was destroyed when Signe was taken from him just as they were coming of age.  After years away, Frigga begs Signe to return home, hoping that the young woman she knew as a girl can warm the heart of her angry, despondent son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mama, Please Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the beautiful and talented [Caffiend](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend) and [TehLadyCav](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TehLadyCav/pseuds/TehLadyCav) for beta'ing.
> 
> Warnings are mostly there as a precautionary measure, but be smart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Signe and Loki meet (or collide, rather) and Loki loses the thing he loves the most.

Not a single soul alive would describe Loki as congenial.  Irascible, perhaps, or even misanthropic.  But most definitely not amicable.  Such an antisocial personality did not win him many friends as an adult, and earned him even fewer as a child.

Thor and Loki grew up alongside several other highborn children.  Often watching them longingly on the sidelines was Signe, the daughter of a noble family that lived on the palace grounds.  Though the little blonde had sisters of her own to play with, she was much more interested in the royal siblings and their mock fighting and tree climbing.  She begged her father to let her join the older boys, but he refused to allow his daughter to partake in such shenanigans.

As was typical, Signe was in the gardens, under the watchful eye of her nursemaid, holding a mismatched bouquet of flowers in her chubby hand when she literally stumbled over Loki.  The prince had magically concealed himself next to a rose bush during a game of hide and seek with Thor.  When she ran into him, she broke Loki’s concentration, rendering him visible once again.  Making a face, Loki sourly scolded Signe, accustomed to easily frightening away other children with a mean scowl.  Signe, however, was absolutely thrilled by his sorcery and remained completely impervious to his attempts to shoo her away.  She chattered excitedly, asking questions and begging him to teach her until finally Loki grabbed her little hand and hauled her to him, casting a charm over them both before she gave him away. 

Between Thor’s general intellectual struggles and Loki’s, well, cheating, the duller elder brother surrendered to the younger and announced him the hide and seek victor.  Basking in triumph, Loki opened his mouth to slight Thor, when Signe interrupted him by grabbing and swinging his hand and dancing around.  She sang an impromptu song about their victory, dragging him by the hand as she skipped and jumped.  He was so dumbfounded by the effervescent, gleeful little thing and her _joy_ that even the silver tongued prince was at a loss for words.  And thus it began.  Despite numerous efforts, no amount of trickery or wickedness hinder the girl’s adoration of him.

It was no secret that Loki was a nightmare for servants to care for.  Between his unpredictable moods and endless tricks, the poor castle staff was always on high alert for his mischievous tricks.  It gave Loki great joy to send nursemaids running in tears.  He was completely beyond reproach.  Not even his mother could make him stop terrorizing her staff. 

Signe also happened to be a thorn in her nursemaid’s sides. Though her three elder sisters were traditional and proper in all things courtly the noble girl was a little tyrant that insisted on doing as she pleased.  She was a little spitfire even in preadolescence, and word spread throughout the castle of how burdensome she was to tame; often it was said that she was as difficult to control as the youngest prince.  

The only situation in which the children behaved even remotely was when they were together.  Signe had completely attached herself to the dark haired boy.  Despite months of foul tactics and countless attempts at dissuading the girl, he couldn’t shake her.  Signe bubbled with laughter when he tried to scare her and she wrapped her little arms around him tightly when he sulked.  Day by day the relentless delight Signe found in him wore away at his bitter walls until he finally realized that under no circumstances was she losing interest in him.  He begrudgingly embraced the little wide-eyed sprite.                                                        

Runa, Signe’s mother, and Frigga, had caught word of their children’s friendship and, in turn, formed their own.  Neither Loki nor Signe made friends easily, and though their relationship was unconventional, especially by court standards, Frigga and and Runa were completely unwilling to tear the two apart.  Of course, the women’s male counterparts grumbled and blustered, but between their stubborn wives and even more stubborn children, they relented and eventually accepted that their children made each other happy.

Watching Loki with Signe made Frigga’s eyes well with joy.  He was no longer so sullen and withdrawn because Signe simply wouldn’t allow it.  If he didn’t humor her and engage in conversation, she took it upon herself to run commentary on whatever activities they were partaking in.  Her unyielding adoration felt different than a mother’s love.  For the first time in his life he had an equal, an ally.  _A friend._ Someone he could trust implicitly without the weight of and competition for the crown looming over him.  Never did she think she’d see her youngest bloom, but with Signe’s devotion, his hardened shell began to crack. 

Happy-go-lucky, good natured Thor saw the changes their playmate inspired in his brother and he embraced Signe as a new friend.  He knew his Loki was difficult to get along with, and he found it endearing that the girl was so taken with him.  So, there formed a trio.  Thor, Loki and Signe.  As long as they remained in one another’s company, they were completely manageable under the care of five of Frigga’s most seasoned women.  They ran and wrestled and played and swam and laughed and thoroughly enjoyed being children.

As they matured, there were instances that required the three to partake in different gender-appropriate activities.  However, these separations were very short lived.  For example, Signe was encumbered with the task of learning needlepoint.  However, after several sessions she was relieved of the responsibility due to the fact that not a single servant could keep Loki from sneaking his way into the sitting room to be with her.  If she was forced to do needlepoint, the two sulked and pouted together until exasperated instructors set them free.  If Loki and Thor were sparring, Signe practiced alongside them with a stick as her sword and a stolen dinner plate as her shield until eventually she was given practice weapons of her own.   

All three of them were indeed close to one another, but no one could argue the profound bond formed between Signe and Loki.  Thor had other friends and was happy to share his brother with the girl.  Loki, on the other hand, had only Signe and Thor, and Thor was rather fickle.  Signe was anything but.  His angst and rage did not scare her.   Days in which he was melancholy didn’t push her away.  There was nothing he could do to force her away; she was loyal to a fault.  For once in his life, he didn’t live in fear of abandonment.

Sometimes, Loki found himself questioning Signe's devotion, but Frigga discouraged him from questioning the younger girl.

“On rare occasion the Norns provide for us exactly what we need while asking absolutely nothing in return.  This— _She_ , is a gift, Loki.” 

One night after a long, hard day of play, the children were corralled and bathed in a frenzy of laughter and splashing.  Each had their own tub of delightfully steamy, bubbly water and a large screen for privacy.  Once they were dressed for sleeping, Signe bid the boys goodnight and walked with Frigga to the Queen’s chambers.  Frigga had given Signe a room of her own for nights such as this, when it was too late (and the poor girl was too tired) to return to her parents.

Frigga took Signe’s hand as they walked side by side.

“My darling, you’re not yet a parent, so you will not completely understand what I’m about to say.  But one day, you’ll have children of your own and you’ll find yourself willing to do everything and anything in your power to make them happy, even if it means rearranging the Nine Realms with your bare hands.”  She paused and cleared her throat, struggling to stay composed.  “You were too young to remember what Loki was like when you met him,” she briefly paused the conversation.  They had arrived at Signe’s private room. 

A servant came to relieve Frigga and put Signe to bed, but the queen smiled and shook her head, dismissing her staff for the night.  Signe sleepily climbed under the covers.

 Frigga hesitated, eyeing the chair next to the bed.  Partaking in such casual intimacy as a monarch happened very rarely, even with her own children, let alone someone else’s.  Pushing aside decorum, she gracefully seated herself, smoothing her skirts as she organized her next thought.  She began again.

"What you have done for my Loki—For _our_ Loki, by being his friend, is beyond thanking, my sweet girl.”

Signe offered her a confused, sleepy smile and rubbed her eyes.

Frigga gave her a wet smile and paused, dabbing at her eyes.

“Thank you, Signe.”

“You’re welcome Your Majesty,” Signe mumbled, half asleep. 

She affectionately stroked Signe’s hair before quietly closing the door and readying herself for bed.    

x

And so the three grew together happily, until Signe reached the brink of womanhood.  She still had the innocence of a child, but Frigga caught glimpses of how Thor would _wrestle_ with her, and her gut clenched in worry.  Loki mostly remained as naïve as Signe, despite being older.  He had begun to catch the eye of ladies around the palace, and sometimes he would even flirt, but never did he think of Signe in such a way.  Sadly, each passing day Thor became more of a man, and Signe’s proximity made her too vulnerable to the Queen’s eldest son.  When word spread throughout the castle that Thor had begun taking women into his bed, Frigga knew something must be done.

The Queen shared her concern with Runa.  They embraced, both in tears, as the noblewoman admitted she shared Frigga’s worries and feared that spending so much time with the princes may deem Signe unfit as a wife at court.  She hated herself for even having the thought, but as Signe’s mother she was obligated to consider her daughter’s future.  The women agreed there was no one at fault in the situation; they knew eventually that their children would likely outgrow such a friendship, but they both wept for their Loki and Signe.

The day Signe was sent away, Loki ceased talking.  Not for the sake of pouting, and for once he wasn’t seeking attention.  Instead, he was simply too shocked to speak.  At dinner that night he went through the motions in the banquet hall, but no one could get him to take even a small bite of food. 

A portion of the evening meal was served on a small platter and given to a servant to deliver to Loki in his rooms, but Frigga intercepted it.  She needed to see her son and knew he wouldn’t agree to simply speak with her.  He was far beyond the years of wanting to confide in his mother. 

When she neared his chambers, there were no guards in sight.  He had sent away every member of his staff.  Steeling herself with a deep breath, Frigga knocked on his door.  She wasn’t surprised when there was no answer, so she knocked once more in warning before gently opening the door.

The scene inside almost caused her to drop the platter of food.  Loki had attacked everything within reach.  His sheets and curtains were shredded, bowls once containing fruit lay in pieces on the floor, the fruit itself crushed to a pulp.  The posts were snapped off his bed, he had taken a knife to the cushion of each chair.  He sat on his bed, staring into nothingness, his eyes red and swollen. 

He was old enough to understand that he was no longer allowed to see Signe at the palace, and he was old enough to be torn apart by it, but he wasn’t mature or experienced enough to comprehend why she was taken from him.  He knew Thor looked at her oddly sometimes, and that his brother was more affectionate than usual, but a lot of boys around the palace paid attention to Signe.  She had always been a beauty, even when she used to shriek and squeal and cling to him as a little child.  He supposed he found her prettier now that she was less annoying, but what she looked like didn’t change the fact that she was the one person in all of Asgard that he was closest to.

Frigga’s heart broke in two.  Swallowing hard, she placed the platter of food on the floor (since what remained of the tables lay in splinters).  Loki could only look blankly at her, his empty, staring eyes filling with fresh tears.  Fighting back her own, she went to her son and wrapped him in her arms as she did when he was tiny enough to fit in her lap.  She wrapped him in her arms just like Signe did whenever he was upset.  If front of his mother, Loki would normally put forth more effort to appear unaffected by the departure of a single noblewoman, but in his exhaustion he no longer had the capacity to hold back his sobs.

During the first few days without Signe, Frigga fought constantly against the thought of begging Runa to allow Signe to return.  She knew Signe must be hurting too, and it seemed inhumane to let the pair experience their agony alone.  But she couldn’t, and deep down she knew it was best if Signe stayed away.  Instead, all she could do was keep a constant eye on her youngest.  He had had dark days in the past, but when she looked at him now, she feared for his own safety.  His eyes were devoid of everything.  Happiness and laughter, but also of gone were anger and spite, and that’s what she feared the most.  He was becoming an empty husk of the boy he became under Signe’s attentions.

Odin offered him a few words of wisdom that went unheard by Loki in his pain.  Secretly Odin was relieved to have the girl gone.  She was nice enough, but she had tempted Thor and in time she would have tempted Loki, causing unnecessary drama between the brothers.  Besides, it was inappropriate for a woman to behave so wildly.

Though unsure how, Loki survived losing Signe.  The days that passed were no less bearable, but the numbness that sank deep into his bones allowed him to slowly regain functionality.  Odin and Thor clapped him on the back, congratulating him for acting like a man, while Frigga watched silently, mourning the pieces of her son that left with Signe.


	2. No Good At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effects of Signe's departure are revealed, and they're not pretty.

As time passed and both princes grew from boys to men, Loki’s reputation evolved from mischievous to…salacious and cruel. When he drank, the castle staff fled from his chambers because the last servant that angered the intoxicated prince was turned into a fly and then stepped on.

Women, wed, promised, and otherwise, were constantly monitored around him for fear he would seduce them with his silver tongue.  The Prince was known for being a voracious lover and the screams of pleasure echoing from his rooms provided reliable confirmation.  Countless women graced his bed, though rarely more than once.  Despite his age and numerous partners, Loki refused to take a wife.  He had interest in neither companionship nor monogamy.  He thoroughly enjoyed fucking his way through the women of Asgard, much to his mother’s dismay.

Frigga wasn’t blind.  She knew of her son’s carnal activities.  She had expressed concern to Odin who rejected the notion that Loki was engaging in self destructive behaviors.  In the Allfather’s opinion, Loki was simply taking advantage of being a young, virile man.  Despite her husband’s obstinacy, the Queen took what action she could.  She did her best to keep noblewomen from spending time alone with the Prince, and Frigga went to great lengths to troubleshoot the dispersion of female servants throughout the castle to protect the young women’s’ virtue from her all-too-eager son.

Without Odin’s permission to intervene, Frigga was unable to stop Loki from tainting her handmaidens.  She was, however, able to strategically station women around the castle based on their ages and level of sexual experience, as well as interest in Loki.  Servants interested in and familiar with sex were allowed posts near Loki’s rooms if they so desired.  The younger, more innocent ladies in waiting were kept close to Frigga in an effort to protect their purity.  For the most part, her system worked.  However, on rare occasion, Loki managed to triumphantly seduce one of his mother’s precious girls.  The pursuit of such defiling such chaste women thrilled him.

If one was interested in entertaining Loki in matters of the flesh, there were conditions one must abide by.  Under no circumstances were women permitted to spend the night in the Prince’s chambers, let alone _sleep_ in his bed.  More often than not, it was easiest if he went to them, rather than summoning them to his private chambers.  He enjoyed being able to finish, roll off and leave. 

Secondly, the women were responsible for anti-contraception measures.  If a girl found herself pregnant, she was removed from the castle and dealt with accordingly.  And finally, kisses on the mouth were to only be initiated by Loki.  He got cruel pleasure out of wooing and conquering women that fantasized about being with a prince, and then either playing with or completely breaking their hearts when he denied them affection and true intimacy.

x

After a midday ride, Thor returned to the stables and was immediately alarmed by sounds of distress.  Concerned, he unsheathed his sword and vaulted around the corner of a stall, only to find Loki with his trousers around his ankles, thrusting madly into a young, nude stable girl.  The stable hand moaned, remaining ignorant of Thor’s presence, but Loki looked up and grinned with pride at his brother.  Thor gripped the handle of his sword so tightly his white knuckles popped.  Though younger, Loki had long ago surpassed the number of women had by Thor, which the younger brother was quite pleased with as it proved he had much more stamina and appeal, and that he was obviously a superior lover.  Looking down at his conquest, Loki continued to pump into the girl’s sweet, wet cunt mercilessly, drinking up every moan and yelp of pleasure she released.  He ruthlessly grabbed her breasts, kneading and squeezing with far too much pressure to feel pleasurable.  As soon as the girl whimpered in pain, Loki grunted as he came in her, continuing to buck until he had emptied his heavy sac of every drop of cum.

Thor looked sadly at the pair and shook his head, sheathing his weapon.  The girl squeaked when she realized she and Loki were no longer alone.  In a lame effort to protect the girl’s modesty, the older brother tossed a saddle blanket to her.  Loki rolled his eyes.  She gazed up from beneath Loki shyly, foolishly hoping to see some kind of tender expression on her lover’s face, or, at the very least, one of satisfaction.  Loki merely smirked.  He bent over to kiss her sardonically on the cheek.  He tucked himself back into his pants and strolled casually to Thor and invited him to return to the castle with him, leaving her alone and nude in the stables.

x

Lust wasn’t Loki's only vice.  Even Thor had become wary of sparring with Loki.  Though the elder prince held a physical advantage, when Loki used his magic in a fight, Thor didn’t have a chance in Hel.  Loki, having felt inferior to Thor for the entirety of his life, gladly took out decades of anger on his brother in the sparring pits.  He would tease and toy, feigning physical surrender only to attack twofold with illusions and tricks. 

Additionally, the other men in the sparring pits were incredibly wary to take him on.  The warriors that were forced to practice with him were out of commission for weeks at a time as they healed from the grave injuries he intentionally inflected upon them.                               

Obviously, Loki hadn’t transformed from a young boy to a caustic, foul tempered young man over a short span of time.  Years of anger, bitterness, and hatred had boiled and festered within him for so long, that at a certain point the poisonous solution congealed around his heart. 

Frigga wasn’t sure if the past years had been more torturous for her or her son.  Watching him spin out of control while she remained helpless caused absolute anguish.  Loki gave off the façade of caring for and feeling absolutely nothing, but she knew in her heart that the insides of him were beginning to decay with the grief and betrayal he felt for Signe leaving. 

That same day as the stable incident, Thor had approached his mother, concerned that the stable hand was too young for Loki to toy with.  Frigga snapped.  _Enough._

The pain Loki inflicted upon her subjects was indicative of the misery and torment her son endured every hour of every day.  She couldn’t bear one more person approaching her with news about the escapades of a man that appeared as her boy, when, in truth, her son been absent for many years.    

Frigga wrote Runa, explaining the situation as best she could and begging her to allow Signe to come to the castle, even if it was just for a visit.  She was terrified Runa would want to keep Signe away from Loki, that Loki posed too much of a threat to her daughter and their family's reputation.  It wasn’t a fact she would argue with, but the Queen could hope.  She knew it was a bold request, as Signe had not yet married and was therefore untouched by any man. 

In the end, she was correct.  Rumors from the castle had made their way to Signe's family, and it was a unanimous decision between her parents to forbid her from going to Loki.  They weren't unsympathetic, but they were unwilling to sacrifice their daughter to the alleged monster the prince had become.

Signe had also heard rumors about her dear friend.  She didn’t want to believe them, of course.  The man in the stories didn’t sound like her Loki… but she knew, even as a little girl, that Loki had a _darkness_ inside him.  Signe didn’t judge it, she didn’t fear it, but she acknowledged its existence and accepted it as part of her beloved prince’s soul. 

When Runa approached her daughter and explained Frigga’s request and their choice to decline, Signe wept.  She wept for herself and the years of pain she endured away from Loki, and of the trials to come.  She wept for the Prince, that her dear, dear friend felt she had abandoned him.  She wept for Frigga, a woman she cared for as much as her mother, for having to watch her son implode. 

And lastly, she wept for her parents because she knew how angry and terrified they would be when she left them for the castle in the morning.


	3. Even I Know this Ain't Smart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signe arrives at the castle at Frigga's request. Loki is... Intrigued.

The morning went as expected.  First, her parents adamantly refused.  When she didn’t relent, they tearfully begged her to change her mind, to stay home and forget Loki.  When she stoically refused, they became angry, accusing her of betraying the love of her own family for that of a monster.  Signe tried to explain that Loki _needed_ her love in a way her family didn’t.  Her family was happy, content, and more importantly, they had each other for support.  Loki was alone and shattering within his own mind.

In their anger, her parents refused to listen to her reasoning.  Loki was no longer their daughter’s childhood friend, but her abductor, the reason their youngest child was being torn from their arms. 

Though still fuming, Runa allowed several of family’s servants to leave with Signe.  It wouldn’t do for her to get lost or robbed on the road.  She bid her family farewell, only to be ignored by her parents.  Each of her sisters embraced her briefly, and Signe left her family home without a single look back.    

She waited until her traveling party was half a mile from her family’s lands before asking the small caravan to stop, using the excuse that her saddle was too loose and needed readjusting.  Though she knew it was unnecessary, she insisted on dismounting.  Having bought herself a few minutes, she slipped away and sought refuge behind several trees just off the side of the dirt road.  Covering her mouth to muffle the noise, she wept quietly, resting her forehead against the rough bark as her shoulders shook with sobs. 

She had grown close with her sisters in the years after leaving the palace.  She had been a troublemaker for so long that now, as an adult, she did her best to abide by her parents’ wishes to make up for grief she caused them as a child.  Signe loved them so much that the last thing she wanted to do was cause them pain, but the look in Loki’s eyes the day she left still haunted her.  She couldn’t live with the thought that _she_ contributed Loki’s pain.  Her conscience simply couldn’t take it anymore. 

Deep down, she knew that her place was at the palace, that she was doing the right thing.  As a single Asgardian, she was insignificant, and she was alright with that.  She wasn’t going to win wars or sign treaties or inspire epic songs.  She could, however, serve her realm and her prince by returning to him.

She inhaled deeply several times until her breaths were smooth instead of stuttered, wiped the tears from her cheeks and rejoined her party.  Graciously she thanked them for stopping and remounted so they could continue on their way. 

x

The journey to the castle took just under two days’ time, and Signe had been squirming ever since she spotted the faint outline of the royal palace.  She was impatient to arrive. 

Silently, she tried to prepare herself for the situation in which she was about to throw herself.  She knew the prince wasn’t well, but beyond that, she didn’t truly know any reliable details.  She refused to believe the awful rumors, though she feared she was soon to learn how many were, in truth, fact.  As they closed the distance between the small caravan and the castle, she decided it would be best to first meet with Frigga to discuss Loki’s condition, rather than going straight to the Prince himself, despite how much she yearned to do so. 

As they neared the palace entrance, Signe simply couldn’t keep still any longer.  She abruptly slid from her saddle and threw her reigns to one of her father’s mounted men and sprinted the last hundred yards.  As the years passed she had, for the most part, matured with poise and grace, but some facets of a personality are simply unchangeable.  Clutching her skirts so she didn’t trip, she ran, jostling her carefully styled blonde hair so that it slipped from its pins. 

Initially alarmed at the running silhouette, the guards stood at attention until she was near enough to identify.  Some of the men recognized her and though as she first drew near they acted unflappable and unmoved, when Signe greeted them warmly and embraced each (regardless of whether they reciprocated), they couldn’t help but smile fondly.  She may have been an unruly child, but her intentions were always pure and her soothing effect on the prince had not been forgotten, despite the years passed.

In anticipation of a lengthy stay, she had been granted her own suite of rooms.  The guards escorted her and she quickly bathed and changed with the help of a newly appointed flock of handmaidens.  Reverting back to her unconventional habits, Signe insisted on requesting a late audience with the queen, despite having just been dressed for bed.  As they walked, her ladies managed to secure a surcoat over her chemise so she wasn’t wandering the castle halls with complete indecency.  They much preferred dressing a stationary body to one in transit, but Signe was afraid the queen would retire before they were able to speak, and the younger girl was impatient to see her.

Outside the queen’s doors, Signe allowed her ladies to plait her golden, wet waist-length  hair into a simple braid before she finally shooed them away to be passed on to Frigga’s servants.  She closed her hazel eyes and attempted to take a centering breath, though her heart still pounded as she approached the door.

Frigga waited in her sitting room, talking quietly with her maids when Signe passed through the doorway.  The younger girl forced herself to keep her hands at her sides.  She desperately desired to embrace the queen, but doing so in front of the servants would be horribly improper.  Unable to help herself, the young woman settled for grasping Frigga’s hand tightly, a bold action, but one for which she was willing to endure any consequences. 

She couldn’t quite read the look in Frigga’s eyes and grew slightly concerned when the queen bid her handmaidens goodnight, leaving the two women alone.  The Queen paused for a beat after they left before embracing Signe, holding the girl to her for much longer than a traditional royal greeting.  After her initial surprise, Signe returned the action, wrapping her arms around the Frigga.  Signe could feel the queen’s breath against her hair, a bit unsteady with emotion.  She gave the older woman a gentle, reassuring squeeze.  When they parted, Frigga took Signe’s hand, inviting her to sit. 

The normally composed queen dabbed daintily at her eyes with a silk kerchief before exhaling shakily and turning so they faced one another.  The break in Frigga’s self-control rattled Signe, for the woman was known for imperturbable manner.  It became clear that she made the correct choice in coming; Frigga was clearly desperate for help.

“Signe,” she said, her voice heavy with affection.

“Your Majesty, it is so good to be back within your castle walls.  I feel that I’ve come home.  Please tell me, how fares your family? Are the prin--.”

Frigga gently interrupted her.

“Darling, Signe, please, in private, call me Frigga, just like when you were a girl.  Years have passed since we’ve last seen one another, and I’ll be sure to praise your mastery of decorum in my next correspondence with your mother, but please, speak freely.  You know I didn’t ask you here to exchange social niceties,” she said with a sad smile.

Sobered, Signe nodded and clasped her hands in her lap.

“I’ve missed him.  So much,” she choked.  “The wound is still so deep, like I left yesterday.  Tell me truthfully, _please,_ how is he? Really?” 

Taking a deep breath, Frigga began to explain how Loki had come to be completely dismantled.  Signe listened quietly, her chest constricting each time the queen’s voice grew tight with grief, which was often.  The women sat together long into the night.  The more they spoke, the more their lessons in deportment faded away.  Neither could keep a dry eye.

“I should’ve come back so much sooner,” Signe murmured, a fresh tear trickling down her fair, slightly flushed cheek.  “I could’ve eased his pain, or at least tried to.  But after the first few years apart, I grew afraid.  I wasn’t sure he would want to see me, I thought he would be angry that I left him,” she sniffed.

“Signe, look at me,” Frigga said sternly, gently grasping the girl’s chin.  “This is _not_ your fault.  It is _no one’s_ fault.  What could have been done or said matters not.  What _does_ matter is that you’re here for him, and my girl.  The entire kingdom is in your debt, in your family’s debt.  I give thanks that your parents consented to your coming here.”

Signe flushed and looked away, chewing her lip.  She was never a very good liar and her parents most definitely had no consented to her visiting.  Frigga sighed uneasily as guilt began to creep in.  The size of the small traveling party confirmed her suspicion that Signe had defied her parents’ wishes.  Signe’s willfulness may very well be her son’s saving grace, though she wished circumstances were different.

“Dear, you know you being here is a choice, yes?  You have no obligation.  No matter what happens, you are free to go at any time, and regardless you will always have a place in my palace and in my family.”

Signe shivered.  The Allmother spoke as if she had been forced from her home against her will, like she was at risk for flight… Or as if she were in danger. 

“I will be removed from this castle only when I am no longer effective,” she said steadily. 

Frigga raised her brows, growing concerned that she had led the lamb to slaughter.

“What I mean is--.”

“I mean this with the utmost respect, Your Majesty, but I will not leave him,” Signe said, squaring her shoulders.  “Not again.”

For the first time in decades—if not centuries—Frigga uttered a small sigh of relief.  How could she have forgotten Signe’s drive? Her stubborn, bullheaded tenacity?  She alone rivaled Loki in such unyielding will.  Perhaps there was hope.

As they parted for the evening, the women clutched each other once more.  Frigga was about to summon a servant to show Signe back to her chambers but the younger girl smiled and shook her head. 

“It’s only a few minutes’ walk, and I remember the way.  Goodnight, my Queen.”

“Goodnight, dear girl.”

Frigga watched her leave until she turned a corner and was out of sight.  Returning to her rooms, she splashed some cool water on her face, rinsing away the tears that had fallen and summoned servants to prepare her for sleep.

Once alone, Signe’s exhaustion hit her with unexpected gusto.  She supposed she _had_ traveled a great way, and both that evening and the previous morning had been very emotionally taxing.  Yawning, she began to clumsily unfasten the outermost layer of her dress, her fingers unpracticed as she relied heavily on servants for such a task. 

With a soft sigh she opened the doors to her chambers.  Unsure where to place her garment, she sleepily draped the surcoat over the back of a chair, leaving her slender form dressed only in a thin sleeping chemise.  She approached the wash basin to cleanse her face when she was interrupted by a man clearing his throat.

“Ooh!”

A dark shadow leaned casually against a wall of her room, one foot lazily crossed over the other.  The firelight flickered over Loki’s face, but she couldn’t identify the grin he wore; it wasn’t one she’d ever seen.

“They said you were here.”

“Loki!” She raced to embrace him, comportment be damned as she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him in glee.

The Prince stiffened, and slowly pushed her off of him before smoothing his now-rumpled tunic in irritation.

 _Oh please no, he was mad at her._ She was afraid he would be.  His eyes were hard, calculating.

“Loki, I’m sorry.  I know I never should have left.  I should have fought and come up with a better reason to stay, but we were just children!  Neither of us had the power to change our situation.  I am so sorry for leaving you,” she rattled, her eyes wide and pleading.

Loki appeared unable to hear her.  His eyes never meet Signe’s.  Instead, she caught them lingering at the flare of her hips.  Then, they slid up her trunk, admiring her tummy before settling on her breasts.  She’d always been tall and a bit lanky, but during their years spent apart she developed quite nicely.  Still a few inches shorter than the prince, she was tall for a woman.  He noticed Signe’s body had filled out, her scrawny form now looked more feminine as he eyed the elegant curve of her hip and soft, lush breasts.   

Following Loki’s gaze, Signe looked down at the front of her chemise in confusion.  She plucked at the fabric, looking for what kept the Prince’s attention.  She was genuinely confused.

“Is there something wrong? What is it? Is there a stain?”

Loki’s mouth remained a thin line as he considered her, his head tilting slightly to the side.  It was then he realized she was serious.  He snickered.  Loki allowed the girl to frantically search her front while he continued to admire the way the sheer chemise gave him a very pleasant view of the sway of her hips and the long, smooth expanse of her belly.  He was almost certain that if he stared hard enough, he could also see her dusky pink nipples hardening into little peaks beneath the thin fabric.

The Prince couldn’t help it.  He sneered and hungrily licked his lower lip.  This was too easy.  Had she ever _met_ a man before?  It was as if she had no sense of modesty.  Had her parents sent her to a nunnery?

Shaking his head, he smirked. 

“No, my darling _Signe_ , there is no stain.  Now, let me see you.  You have grown since I saw you last.”

Again, his eyes had left hers in favor of examining her body.  The Prince pushed off the wall and circled her closely, pausing for a brief moment to admire her rounded backside.  Her head whipped around as she desperately tried to follow his gaze, still confused by his behavior.  As he came full circle and faced her again, he roughly took her chin in his hand, using it to maneuver her head back and forth as if he were examining livestock for purchase.

Too stunned to push him away, Signe merely gazed up at him dumbly.  She winced at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

The normally impassive prince’s breath caught as she looked at him; her eyes had always been his favorite of her features; her irises were a mixture of moss and whiskey.  They were just as he remembered.

“You’re as pretty as the guards said you were,” murmured the Prince thoughtfully.  “I imagine I’ll have you in my bed by the end of the week, at the latest, depending on how long you want to play this game,” he with a smug smile, referring to what he assumed was her feigned innocence.

Signe wrenched her jaw from his grasp and took a step back, stunned.  Her lips parted to speak, but she couldn’t manage to emit even a sound of confusion.  She frowned as she studied him.  She spoke softly, as if to a child on the verge of a meltdown.

“What are you talking about, Loki?  We’re grown, we sleep in separate beds now,” she laughed uncomfortably, alluding to their very, very early days of friendship when napping side by side as young children was an innocent act.

“Don’t be daft,” he snapped.  Pursuing a woman playing hard to get was one of his favorite games, but Signe was _already_ _his_.  She had never stopped being his.  Such a game was useless.  The wide eyed look she gave him was extremely irritating.

“You act like you don’t know Mother has invited you here as my whore.”

Signe had been slowly backing up step by step, until the backs of her knees hit the seat of the chair she on which she had draped her dress.  She fell onto the cushion with a gasp but never broke eye contact with Loki.  She couldn’t make herself look away from him.  Her eyes searched his face, a face that she now realized was very, very unfamiliar to her.  There were traces of dark circles beneath his eyes, he had frown lines around his mouth and small creases from scowling.  There was a dullness to green his eyes and he kept making disgusted expressions that she didn’t recognize. 

Uncaring of her shock, he advanced, kicking her legs apart and sank to his knees between them, appearing give her the advantage of height.  She stared down at him, her chest so tight that she could barely take in a much needed breath.  When he reached for her wheat colored hair, she visibly shivered.  He laughed.  He stroked the small end of her braid several times before removing the ribbon securing the style and dropping it to the floor.  He shook her hair out, burying his hands around locks on either side of her face and pulling them forward, combing it over her chest.  Loki smoothed the strands and ran his fingers through them until each section laid neatly.  He loved how soft and silky it felt against his fingers.  He could easily imagine it wrapped around his hand as he rode her.

He sighed.  No longer content with just touching her hair, he gathered it all in one hand and swept it around her shoulder, leaving the right side of her neck completely exposed.  Signe was frozen.  Her hand shook in her lap and her chest heaved as she desperately fought to take in air, but none seemed to make it to her lungs. 

Without bothering to look at her face for permission, Loki leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against neck, inhaling deeply and releasing a quiet moan.  She started when something warm and wet slid along the side of her neck.  He’d licked her.

“Mmmm.  You smell the same… But different.  Like you, but with more woman.  And you taste divine,” he crooned.

Signe shook her head.  He was making no sense.  None, whatsoever.  Was he confused? Had he mistaken her for someone else? He’d called her by her name, hadn’t he? 

“Loki,” she whispered, barely able to generate even the softest volume.  “What happened?”

In an instant he was on his feet, body rigid.

“Nothing _happened_.  Have you never been with a man?”

She shook her head, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall.

“No? Why not?”

He paused, looking her hard in the eye as if he could see inside her.  She couldn’t help but stare at him earnestly.

“It’s would be proper,” she whispered.

“Proper?  Since when does propriety matter to you?”

Speechless, the poor girl could only shake her head.

Loki roughly grabbed her hand and cupped it against the growing bulge in his pants.

“Darling, _this_ is what happens when a man wants to be between your soft little thighs.”

He squeezed, causing her to massage his hard cock through his trousers.  She blanched and tore her hand from his grasp.

“Loki, I think you should leave.  Let’s speak again in the morning, I want so badly to hear of everything you’ve done while I’ve been gone,” she said with a small, hopeful smile. 

“You will not speak to your prince with such familiarity, girl,” he hissed.  Clearly, he had interpreted her response as rejection.

Signe stuttered, unsure if she could endure one more slight from him.  She felt as if she had been backhanded.

“My sincerest apologies, my—my Prince,” she whispered softly.  “Please forgive my insolence.”

She couldn’t force herself to look him in the eye.

“That’s better, kitten,” he crooned, stroking her hair as if she were an animal.  “Poor thing, you look exhausted.  Here, let’s get you to bed.”

She couldn’t decide if his voice was scarier now or when he had raised it at her several moments ago.  At least when he was yelling, she could read him emotionally.  She couldn’t make heads or tails of him now.

Apparently she had taken too long to rise on her own so he roughly gripped her upper arm and hauled her into a standing position.  The bed wasn’t far so he dragged her a few feet, pulled down the corner or the duvet and forced her onto the mattress.  She lay very still aside from a subtle tremble as he gripped the covers in his hand and slowly pulled them up over her body, effectively tucking her in as if she were a child.

"Goodnight, little Signe.  I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured, and left her rooms without another word.

For the first time since she was a child, Signe cried herself to sleep.


	4. Bad Boy With a Tainted Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Necessary evils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most exciting chapter guys, but I promise the next chapter will make up for it.
> 
> Thor fans, I'm sorry I'm such a bitch. I adore Chris Hemsworth and I think he does a marvelous job as portraying Thor... But Thor as a character is just so damn fun to pick on.

After a fitful night of sleep, Signe woke to a gaggle of older servants bearing breakfast.  They had all known Signe as a child, and she was delighted after her less-than-enjoyable-evening prior to lose herself in light conversation catching up with old friends.

After eating and dressing for the day, she contemplated how to move forward.  She could go to Frigga and ask her to recount Loki’s painful years to better analyze them, but discussing his suffering would only hurt both women.  Talking with the staff was another option, but it felt passive.  Instead, she boldly, or stupidly, she wasn’t sure, decided to seek out the prince and speak with him.

x

Signe chewed her lip as she saw him lurking behind the curtain of the balcony, contemplatively watching while his clone sat quietly amongst the high council members.  He seemed to be in good spirits, if not mildly pleased by his own trickery in the atrium below.  The replica went through the motions, nodding and speaking as needed, and looking quite dignified as he did so.  Despite last night and the butterflies erupting in her stomach upon seeing the Prince, she refused to retreat.  Instead, she bravely approached him and quickly linked her arm in his before she could change her mind. 

She could feel his muscles tighten at her touch and he began to recoil, but when he looked down and saw it was her, he raised a brow at her in irritated confusion.  He stared down, taking at least a full minute to consider her.  She stared right back, though the intensity of his glare caused her cheeks to flush.  If he was trying to make her uncomfortable, he had succeeded, but she firmly planted her feet.  He couldn’t scare her. 

He finally smirked and returned his gaze to the meeting, tugging her even closer to his side.  She felt as though she’d just come in contact with a feral, carnivorous animal in the wild and watched helplessly as it decided whether or not she was prey.  Thankfully, she was pretty sure he had deemed uneatable.  Or whatever the corresponding metaphor would be. 

 As she watched his clone, she had to admit he was impressed.  “You’ve gotten better,” she whispered, careful not to give them away.  All of a sudden she heard raised voices echo from below.  His double, who had begun bickering with Thor, rose so suddenly in anger that his chair knocked over behind him.  Signe wasn’t able to make out what the duplicate sneered at his brother, but whatever it was, it thoroughly pissed Thor off.  Loki’s double gracefully left the room below, leaving the other men muttering quietly while Thor grumbled and scratched his head.

Signe had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.  _This was her Loki._ The younger prince eyed her warily, as if he weren’t sure of the sincerity of her reaction or if she were laughing _at_ him, before relaxing the slightest amount and allowing his lips to quirk into a half grin.  Smiling and shaking her head, she tugged on his arm, leading him away from the assembly so they could speak.

“You’ve grown powerful, my Prince,” she praised.

Loki cleared his throat, somehow appearing both arrogant but also clearly uncomfortable with the complement.

“Yes, well, it’s been many years since you’ve seen me practice magic, my Lady,”

She nodded, unsure how to respond.  After several minutes of walking, her stomach sank as she realized he was leading them further and further from the center of the palace and in the direction of his rooms.  For a moment she panicked, ashamed to admit she was afraid of what would happen between them behind closed doors.  She drilled her brain for an excuse to stop somewhere else. 

“Could we visit the gardens?”

He laughed once, though it was more like a cynical huff.  His lips settled into a thin line and the look in his eyes wasn’t one of pleasure, but it didn’t quite constitute as a glare.  There was a hint of jaded amusement.

“Afraid to be alone with me?”

She shook her head in denial.

“My Prince, last night was... Not how I expected our reunion to go.  I would very much like to speak with you and learn about your life here, I’m sure much has changed.  And you can’t deny it’s a beautiful day.”

“It is back the way we came,” he groused, watching her suspiciously. 

“Please?”

Sighing dramatically, Loki nodded and turned to escort her in the opposite direction.

“Don’t be so formal,” he grunted. 

She wondered if he remembered ridiculing her last night.  The formality he had requested of her had stung, she couldn’t deny that, but it had seemed very much like an in-the-moment power play.  She was grateful to at least be allowed to use his name in private.

“Thank you, Loki.”

They walked in silence.  _Loki was never a chatterer, but when did he become so grim and silent?_

In passing, they came across a young, buxom maid carrying and armful of fresh bed linens.  Signe felt Loki’s gait change, as if he went from walking normally to sloppier, slower steps in which his posture worsened.  Asgardian swag, if you will.  His arrogance flared and he leered openly at the woman.  Signe watched as the girl coyly made eye contact with the prince, batting her lashes coquettishly and managing a curtsey that somehow required bending over far enough to provide a good look at her assets.  Loki and Signe came to a stop and she leaned forward, whispering something in his ear, giggling.  Without looking away from the servant, Loki addressed Signe.

“You remember the way to the gardens, my Lady?”

Signe nodded, confused as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two.

“I must tend to an urgent matter.  See yourself to the courtyard and I’ll join you when I’m able,” he assured her. 

He wrestled his arm away from hers and turned without a second glance.  She watched him wrap an arm around the maid’s waist and squeeze, causing the girl to giggle. 

She was shocked.  _Was her attempt to reconnect with the prince just foiled by some scullery wench?_

Clenching her fists, Signe did as he asked and made her way outside.   She had a heavy feeling in her gut that the servant wasn’t simply refreshing his sheets.  She had seen her sisters with their husbands and recognized the look exchanged between the prince and the maid in the hallway.  At home, she had heard, despite closed and locked doors, laughter and groaning generated by her sisters and brothers-in-law, and though she was knowledgeable of the reproductive practices of beasts, she couldn’t conceptually combine the two acts to imagine what human lovemaking was like.   Perhaps if she were better educated the prince would be willing to speak more freely with her?  He had become so silent.

Signe worried her lip.  She was unmarried, and therefore her virtue was very much intact.  She knew her parents worried about rumors, she had spent so many years playing with the princes at the castle that some noble families doubted the truth of her virginity.  Between suspicions and her own refusal to settle for marrying into any family that would accept her “damaged goods” and all, Signe remained unwed.  Despite having been away from the palace for years, she _had_ still thought constantly about Loki.  She realized she had no interest in other men.

After what he’d said last night, she wondered if she’d even get the chance to marry.  She was almost positive Frigga hadn’t asked her here under false pretenses…  Mostly.  Last night she saw the heartache and misery in the queen’s eyes… Would that make her go to any lengths to save Loki?  Suddenly Signe wasn’t so sure.  _Was she really to be his whore?_  

Eager for a distraction, she spent the next few hours reacquainting herself with the many paths and fountains and flowers while waiting for Loki.

She saw that the position of the sun had changed drastically and realized her cheeks felt a little too warm from the sun. _He wasn’t coming._   She resignedly took a seat on a nearby bench.  She had been foolish to even wait for him.  Signe hadn’t expected to be so frustrated with him after such a short time back.  She was startled mid-thought by the deep, boisterous greeting.

“Thor,” she sang brightly, rising and embracing him.  _At least Thor is the same_.  The elder prince invited her to walk with him to the evening meal they strolled at a leisurely pace, laughing and catching up along the way.  The conversation remained mostly lighthearted, until Thor stopped them and took her hand.  He grew solemn and took a moment to voice the concerns he had about Loki, all of which Signe listened to, nodding in hesitant affirmation. 

_She had to ask him about what Loki said the night before.  She had to._

“Thor… Last night Loki implied that your mother had asked me here to be his… Er, to serve him in manners of the flesh.  Tell me the truth, is that why I’m here?”

Thor looked dumfounded.  (This wasn’t a new facial expression for Thor, but it was significantly more dramatic than usual)

“Lady Signe, no.  Mother would never dream of such a thing.  I’ll speak with Loki, he should be punished for saying such things,”

“No!  Please, no.  I’d like to keep this between us.  I don’t think he would be pleased to find out I asked you.”

Thor gave her a doubtful look.  He felt protective of the girl.

“He… Has not, er, demonstrated an understanding of women as equals for many years, my lady.”

“Please, Thor, I would do this on my own.  He doesn’t seem to trust anyone, and if he knows I went to you, it will spoil any chance I have at getting through to him.”

Thor paused for a moment, then nodded before enveloping her in a crushing hug.  She returned it to the best of her ability, gently patting his back.

They resumed their walk to the banquet hall and Thor ushered Signe to the royal table.  Initially she protested, she was of noble birth but had no right to sit at the high table, until Frigga saw Thor trying to persuade her and gave her a knowing glance.  Without words, she had officially invited Signe to the table, and a queen’s invitation was not to be denied.

Halfway through the meal, Loki smugly sauntered in, looking quite pleased with himself.  His hair was wet and he had several mysterious marks on his neck that were most definitely not there earlier that afternoon.  He seated himself across the table from Signe.  For the remaining duration of the evening, he vacillated between gazing at Signe for uncomfortable stretches of time, his expression unreadable, and letting his eyes wander amongst the other female guests.  Signe felt a pang of… what, jealousy? when she noticed his eyes eagerly roaming the bodies of the other women.  She supposed so.  With too many thoughts to possibly process in the roaring hall, she quickly finished her mean, bid everyone goodnight and excused herself to return to her rooms. 

x

Though she vividly remembered him sitting at the table when she left, Loki somehow managed to arrive at the doors of her chambers before she did.  Cordially they greeted one another, but despite the polite words, Signe felt as though they were sizing each other up instead of exchanging pleasantries.  For what, she knew not.  Loki opened the door for her, and she didn’t know what to do aside from entering.  He, of course, followed, helping himself to a seat before the fireplace. 

“Come, my Lady,” he motioned, gesturing at his lap.

“I’m far too large to sit like a child, I’m comfortable in my own chair, but I thank you for your invitation, my Prince.”

“As you wish, darling.”

Signe cleared her throat and began asking him about his day, questions he quickly grew bored of.

“Why would you not accompany me to my chambers earlier today?”

She froze, furrowing her brows.  He’d think her patronizing him if she explained she’d merely wanted to see the gardens, so she neglected to repeat that excuse.

“I wasn’t sure what would take place once we arrived there,” she admitted softly, daring to boldly look him in the eye.  

He poured himself a goblet of wine from a nearby decanter and offered cup to her with a sly smile.

“Don’t fret, my little peach.  Soon, you’ll be very sure.”


	5. This Type of Love Isn't Rational

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh shiiiiiit. Somebody call the smut police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy smut writing marathon, Batman. I hope it's enjoyable, cause I'm delirious after cranking that sucker out. Feedback! Is it too drawn out? Should I have just let them at each other? Don't be shy to voice your opinion.

“If you want to continue this conversation, please put the wine down, sire.”

Ornery as ever, the prince tipped his head back, pouring the remainder of the liquid down his throat.  He slammed his cup onto a side table and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  In his defense, he didn’t pour himself another.

She lost it.  The combination of a poor night of sleep, her pinked, sunburned cheeks and the cantankerous, cryptic prince sent her over the edge.

“You are behaving as a child!  Can’t you see how acting in such a way is causing your family distress? Do you even look the queen in the eye anymore?  Her heart cleaves in two whenever she looks at you and your flock of girls and flagons of wine!”

She was angry.

The prince narrowed his eyes at her.  Evidently the feeling was mutual.

“What right have you to stomp into the castle, trying to intervene in my life?  You think you can _save_ me?  Rescuing, coddling is the last thing I need.  What I _need_ is to stop being tiptoed around and acknowledged and treated as an adult.  And you have the gall to accuse me of arrogance.  You thought you could what, _fix_ me?”

 “Of course not, Loki.  Please, what I want is to get to know one another once more so we can as we were!  How could we have been companions for so many years as children and now that we’re adults, you act as though you despise me?  I don’t understand why you won’t let me help you.”

An unsettling gleam shone in his eye at the mention of _companions._

“You wish to be close once more?”

She nodded and her eyes began to well.

“Alright.  Agree to be my companion, and I’ll speak more… _openly_ with you,” he challenged.

Her face lit up until she realized how lecherous his expression still was.  Then she was back to pissed.  Clearly she was missing something.

“And if I were to be your _companion_ , what would that entail, my lord?”

Based on the sick feeling in her gut, she had an idea as to what he meant, but she couldn’t help but ask.

Loki was practically vibrating with glee.

“You would be mine.  You would accompany and service me when as I required.”

Yeah.  She had a feeling he didn’t mean to replicate their friendship, but to use her.

But she still couldn’t bring herself to refuse him. 

At least, not yet.

“Service you, my prince?”

She knew she was being manipulated.  She almost wished she _couldn’t_ see the situation with such clarity, that she could accept his offer without realizing he was willing only to trade “friendship” for her body, and that all he really desired was power over her, which was a new conquest for him.

“Sexually.  Clearly you’re ignorant in such matters presently, but under my tutelage you’ll learn quickly to please me.”

She stared down into the flames of the stone hearth.

If she agreed, she would never marry.  At least, it was highly unlikely.  Word would spread that she was, indeed, Loki’s whore.  No one would want her once she was discarded.  Despite pangs of fear and humiliation, she glanced at him.

His expression was her downfall.  The amount of animosity he conveyed with the look in his eyes and the expression on his twisted mouth broke her.  She knew there was a different man somewhere inside of this wicked shell.   _This isn’t him._  

She couldn’t get the sense of the queen’s anguish out of her mind.  Deep down, she was confident in her ability to succeed at recovering her friend.  She knew she was likely the only one in the entire realm with the power to do so.  And she _wanted_ to.  She knew there would be harsh consequences that would ultimately mold the remainder of her life, but as a child, there was no one she loved more than Loki.  How much different could loving him with her body be? 

Definitely a rhetorical question.  She didn’t want to think about the answer.

“Alright.”

“Yes? Good girl!  I’ll arrange for your belongings to be moved to my rooms at once.”

“Wait--.  What are you talking about?  Your mother said you don’t keep your companions’ things in your quarters,” she said with a blush.

“You’ve spoken with Frigga of my nocturnal habits, have you?  No, dear girl, she should’ve told you I’ve never had a _companion_ before.  Only those that have warmed my bed for a few hours at a time.  When I have you, I want you permanently and I want you available to me at all times.”

Signe’s flushed even more and had to look away.  Was he trying to make her say no?  To change her mind? 

“Fine.  I’ll arrange to have my things moved tomorrow.”

“Good girl.  Now, gather what you need for tonight.  There will be no need to call a servant to undress you, I’ll see to that,” he purred.

Nodding slowly, Signe assented.

 “Would you allow me several minutes to get what I need and freshen up, my prince?”

He looked at her skeptically and it made her chest ache.  _Did he think she would run?  Or simply not come at all?_

“Loki,” her voice waivered, but she stood tall and walked to him.  Gently, _slowly_ , as if not to spook him, she cupped his face in her slender hands and chastely pressed her lips to his.  She hadn’t the faintest idea what she was doing, but mimicking an act she’d seen done hundreds of times seemed to reassure him that she would, indeed, make her way to his rooms.  She pulled away, searching his eyes for some sign that he believed her.  She found none.

“I’ll come to you in ten minutes, my lord.  You’ll wait up for me?”

“In more ways than one, little peach,” he assured her.

Signe thanked him and saw him out, then readied herself for the night.  She washed her face and cleaned her teeth in her rooms.  She obeyed him and kept herself from calling for help undressing, though she allowed her long, blonde hair down.  She gathered and folded a silk sleeping gown.  She couldn’t think of what else to bring.  A hairbrush?  For the morning?  She shrugged and placed hers in a basket.  She felt it would be odd to see a noblewoman roaming the halls with a crude satchel, so the basket it was.  Lastly, she grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders.  It still smelled of home.  She was quite positive she would not be wearing it long in the presence of the prince, but it was a comfort nonetheless. 

Self-conscious walking through the palace corridors holding things that most definitely implied she would not be sleeping in her own quarters, she walked swiftly.  Signe rapped twice on the door and upon hearing Loki’s invitation to enter, did so.

It was darker than she expected inside the prince’s room.  Despite the lack of light, she could make out the familiar intricacy of the carved, gold-varnished wood paneling accenting the walls, and the vibrant green, plush velvet of the chairs and the prince’s bed.  Some furniture had been added or moved, but for the most part, it was the same as she remembered. 

Despite the chill of the night, he was standing out on the balcony.  Signe laid her basket and cloak on a table and went to join him, as he made no move to return inside.  She slid her arm into his once more and rested her head against his shoulder. 

“What would you have me do tonight, my lord?  I’m ashamed to admit I will need instruction in pleasure,” she admitted.

He practically scowled at her.  His sudden turn knocked her off balance, but he caught her at her elbows and held her to him.

“Stupid girl.  Do you not understand what I will take from you?  Or do you think I won’t? That I’ll take mercy on you?  I won’t be gentle; I care not for your satisfaction.  I will ruin you for all other men, Signe.  Do you really want that?”

Never had he spoken to her with such a tone.  It didn’t matter.

 She couldn’t think properly standing this close to him.  She unlinked her arm from his and took a step forward, resting her hands on the railing for support.

“What I want is for you be as you were, no more of these forced smiles and cruel palace antics.  This is not a game to me, Loki.  _You_ matter to me.  I don’t care that it’s been years since we’ve last seen each other, I don’t care about rumors or how many girls you’ve had in your bed.  _Do you understand that these things mean nothing to me?_   When Frigga informed me that you weren’t doing well, less than twelve hours passed between receiving the news and my departure.  My parents are afraid for me, for my reputation and _purity_ , but Loki, if you’re not happy, _none of that matters._   I could be married, have a family, but if I knew you were miserable, I would not be able to find joy.  If you’re not happy, I’ll never be happy.  You mean more to me than anyone else in the nine realms.  I don’t know how to make you believe me,” she finished softly.

“Come here.”

Despite her pounding heart, she obeyed without hesitation.  She closed the gap between them and looked up at him, completely and utterly vulnerable.  If he truly hated her, he could easily crush her with rejection. 

Loki grabbed her chin in his hand.

“Never again will you speak of your marriage to another man.  Ever,” he hissed.

_That was not the response she was expecting._

Unsure of what to say, she quietly stammered, “Y-yes, my prince.”

Loki moved his fingers from gripping her chin to burying them in her thick hair, tightening his fist near the nape of her neck to control her movements.  His other hand squeezed the flesh of her hip as he tugged her against him.

This time, Loki initiated the kiss.  He was an ass, but not so much of an ass that he wanted sloppy first-time-kisses from his new companion.  Instead, provided silent instruction using his grip on her hair to tilt her head back, then leaned forward and pressed his mostly closed mouth against hers, sucking gently at her lower lip before pulling away.

His green eyes flicked back and forth between hers, gauging her reaction.  Though he was taller, he wasn’t too tall that she couldn’t reach for the back of his head and pull him down to her.  She imitated his movements, pressing her lips to his but pulled away after each peck to look at him, desperately seeking his approval.  He nodded, and she repeated this several times before he tightened his fist tight in her hair, preventing her from pulling away.  He increased pressure, molding his lips against his with an intense passion. 

Sighing, Signe found herself squirming against him, her hips desperately in search of something to relieve the pressure building between her legs.  Signe could feel Loki smirk against her mouth as, mid kiss, he hoisted her up onto the railing and nestled his thigh between hers.  She moaned eagerly, surprising even herself as she inquisitively thrust against him, clutching him to her when she realized the pressure he was applying made something begin to coil tight in her belly.

Reluctantly, Loki pulled away from her.  They both panted, breaths puffing against one another’s lips.  As if to illustrate her growing need, she gripped his shoulders and used them for leverage as she wantonly thrust her core against his thigh, maintaining eye contact through the entire act.  His only response was an unintelligible grunt.  It took all the power he had not to start rutting against her warm little body, and he managed somehow to compose himself enough to lift the girl and walk with her to his bed, pulling at strings and clasps and layers, divesting her of her dress faster than a team of servants ever had.  She had a feeling he had helped things along with a bit of magic, but she was far from caring.  He lay her back and had her lift her hips so he could tug her skirts from under her.  He stared down at the bare woman beneath him, taking in the rapid rising and falling of her chest, emphasized so nicely by the simultaneous heave of her breasts.  She looked quite pleasing with her half lidded eyes and thighs rubbing together.

As if paralyzed, she lay on her back, arms out to her sides and bent at a ninety-degree angle with her hands resting nonthreateningly on either side of her head in surrender.  Loki palmed himself through his trousers and groaned, his brain short circuiting at the vision that lay before him.  The prince had to remind himself to breathe.  The excited flutter in his chest was foreign and borderline uncomfortable.  It wasn’t a sensation he was used to feeling in the throes of passion, and he was in such throes quite often. 

To his surprise (which registered only vaguely as the majority of his conscious mind was focused elsewhere), he found himself ceasing his own pleasure to lean over her, using both hands on either side of her to support himself.  She instinctively parted her thighs for him and he settled between them, murmuring indistinct words of praise against her skin as he nuzzled the length of her neck.  Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice was screaming that this is not what he had planned for her, that he was going about this all wrong and he should be using her brutally by now.  But her body was so damn distracting.  No worldly force could’ve stopped him from lowering his mouth to her breast and suckling one of her stiff, hardened little buds between his lips.  They both groaned at the sensation, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the white knuckles of her fists gripping the bedclothes. 

Truly, he had every intention of fucking her and going to sleep.  _Why was she so enticing?  She was as inexperienced as they came, and he very much preferred well-seasoned lovers.  Why was she even letting him do this?  Was she truly enjoying it or was it an act?_

He had to know.  With his thumb, he pulled gently at her lower lip.  Her hazel eyes watched him with such intensity that he knew he’d likely embarrass himself if he were to so much as grind against her.  He switched from his thumb to his index finger and trailed it down her chin, her neck, between her collar bones.  When he reached her navel, he slid down and used his tongue, laving and then peppering her lower belly with kisses.  His finger resumed its journey and her abdominal muscles visibly fluttered as he ran it down the space between her hip bones.  It came to rest on the soft curls framing her aching slit, and as if performing a very delicate surgery, he used one hand to spread her and readied the other to slide inside her.  The second half of his mission because moot.  Because this was most definitely not an act.  He could _see_ her arousal weeping from her little cunt and as if to remind him that she was waiting, she impatiently gave a small thrust of her hips. 

Loki grinned.

“Patience, kitten.”

Fighting the urge to simply bury his face against her, he chose to first slip one, and then two fingers gently into her agonizingly tight channel.  Some chain of expletives left his mouth but he couldn’t be bothered with the details.  All he cared about was the slick, throbbing, heat into which he had buried his fingers to the second knuckle.  Watching her expression, he experimentally crooked them, feeling immense satisfaction as her hips rose off the bed once more in an attempt to ride his hand.  The palm of his other hand pressed firmly against her belly, keeping her in place as he leaned forward.  Fingers slowly thrusting in and out of her, his mouth sought out her tender, swollen little clit.  When his lips wrapped around it she cried out and made to pull herself away from him, but he held her fast.

“No, Loki, it hurts,” she whimpered, her words slurred.

“It’s good pain, my little peach, I promise, I’ll show you,” he murmured against her skin.  He couldn’t bear to fully remove his lips from her little pussy.

With his fingers he thrust gently but with clear intent, the pads of his fingers rubbing over and over and over against a mysterious little spot inside of her that made her see white when he touched it. 

It hurt?  Wait.  Maybe?  It was uncomfortable.  Something needed to happen, she knew it.  When she made an attempt to wriggle away from him he growled against her pussy and she stilled, whimpering openly as he fucked her with his fingers.  Clit still seated happily between his sucking lips, he attacked (gently) with the tip of his tongue.  He was rewarded with something between and scream and a wail and a desperate thrust that he was confident she wasn’t even aware she made.  Despite pitiful noises of distress, he continued his torture until her keening grew higher and higher in pitch and he finally felt the telltale contraction of her walls squeezing his fingers.  He maintained his moderate, brutal pace.  Between her cries and the gush of moisture that wet his hand, he was pretty pleased with himself as he fucked her well through her firsts orgasm.  When her hips stopped thrusting themselves at him (save for a few trembling aftershocks) he tenderly pulled his fingers from her.  Surprising even himself, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her dripping little slit, making her twitch from sensitivity.  He grabbed a blanket and covered her sweaty, cooling body temporarily while he ran to the bathroom. 

He fumbled desperately with the ties of his trousers, hissing at any amount contact with his rock hard cock.  He gingerly pulled himself out and immediately began pumping. Between the beads of weeping precum and Signe’s release fresh on his hands, he beat his fist smoothly over his angry, red cock.  It took him less than a minute to cum all over his hand, something he hadn’t done for years.  His cheeks were flushed and there was a thin sheen of sweat along his brow as he wiped his hand with a towel and tried to catch his breath.  Once it had steadied, he wet a separate cloth which he took to the sleepy girl on his bed.  Tenderly he cleaned her of her arousal and release as she watched him from beneath her lashes.

“That wasn’t what I was expecting,” she mumbled.  Tossing the towel to the floor, he slid Signe up towards the head of his bed and pulled the covers over her.  Each time she blinked, her eyes remained closed for just a second longer.  He affectionately smoothed her hair away from her sweaty face until her eyes finally remained shut and her breaths deepened with sleep.

Though sated, Loki was thoroughly flummoxed, but any thinking needed to be put off until the morning, as he could barely keep his eyes open himself.  He snaked an arm around her middle and pulled her to him possessively.  He wasn’t sure if this was how couples were supposed to sleep, no woman had ever stayed past this stage, but it felt good to hold her to him.  Actually, it was pretty enjoyable.  And that’s what she wanted, right?


	6. It's Physical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trash. Just smutty, smutty trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had I more self control, I'd drag it out. But I don't so I won't.
> 
> Short, but smutty.

_**Loki startled awake suddenly to someone stroking his brow.**_   Unthinkingly, his hand shot out and his fingers brutally wrapped around a slim wrist, wrenching it away from his face. 

Signe froze, realizing she should’ve known better than to touch him while sleeping.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.  “You weren’t scowling.  I wanted to make sure you were real.”

His chest was still rising and falling more rapidly than normal as his nervous system recovered from the perceived assault. 

“You don’t touch me without my permission,” he scolded, releasing her hand.  He wasn’t quite glaring at her, but he was deadly serious.

“I wasn’t thinking, forgive me?”

Watching her with uncertainty, he nodded.

His constant doubt in her intentions hurt, but she understood it, and the only way she could erase that uneasiness was to prove her devotion to him over time.

“Loki,” she murmured quietly.

He grunted in response, flopping back against his pillows, scrubbing his face with his hand.

“May I please touch you?”

Loki’s hesitation was genuine.  _What on earth had caused him to become so skittish?_

“Let me please you?  Teach me?  I want to give you pleasure,” she asked shyly, ducking her head as she blushed.  He was unused to seeing her so bashful, but her genuine desire to learn, to please _him_ , was incredibly attractive.  He could feel himself harden at her eagerness.     

Just then, Signe realized she was sitting up with her bare chest very much exposed.  She went to cover herself but he shook his head.

“I’ll teach you kitten, but another time.  Right now, burying myself inside you will please me most.”

He wrestled her from beneath the covers and sat her on is lap, her hot core inches from his growing erection.  She glanced down and her cheeks bloomed with color.  Nervously she steadied herself with both palms on his chest and he rubbed reassuring circles against the flesh of her hip with his thumbs.  It flabbergasted him that one of the strongest women he knew was turned into a timid little mouse, desperate for instruction at the sight of male arousal.  He rather liked the idea of such an intense, independent woman willing to fall to her knees for him.  _Who would willingly become this vulnerable and defenseless?_ If he were any less powerful, he’d assume she was simply a brilliantly executed illusion sent to fool him, with the ability to somehow appear solid and imitate the warmth of human skin.  But she was no mirage.  _She was his._

 “Give me your hand.”

Obediently, Signe lifted one palm from his chest and held it out to him.  Taking her hand in his, he had her brush her fingertips along his length.  The throbbing that began between her legs upon hearing him gasp simply from her touch hinted at the beginning of… whatever it was he made her do last night that felt so good and made her so sleepy.

Wrapping her smaller hand around him, he guided her from root to tip a few times before letting her hand go free. When her grip became loose, he patiently replaced his hand over hers, squeezing gently until she got the message to grip him firmly. 

She experimented with pace and pressure, torn between watching the physical reaction of his swelling cock and the expressions on his face as she touched him.  Intuitively her own hips began to move as she felt herself growing wet as she had last night. 

Loki couldn’t help but think her paradoxical.  Somehow she managed to be both completely innocent and wonton at the same time.  The thought made Loki crazy, that he could awaken in such a naïve woman such primal urges.  Simply watching her touch and explore him was immensely erotic.

When he was unable to keep from thrusting himself up into her hand, he rolled them over, settling between her thighs as they parted for him.Loki slipped a hand between them and stroked his fingers between her folds, smirking proudly as they came away slick with her arousal.  She looked ashamed that she had reacted so strongly, but he latched his mouth onto hers in an effort to reassure her. 

Loki had never taken a virgin before.  Normally he considered them useless, unpracticed in the art of pleasing a man and had no interest bothering with them.  He knew little of what she was about to experience, but he remembered hearing it could hurt.

“Signe, this will be uncomfortable at first.  It might even be painful—,”

“Please,” she breathed, “I want you to.  But, may please I touch you?”

Fair enough.  He nodded, lowering his lips to hers once more.  Just as be began to savor the fact that she _wanted_ this, the distracting feeling of her hands buried in his hair made him shiver.  How could he not have known how much pleasure the small, seemingly insignificant act provided? 

Loki braced himself over her with one hand and used the other to run the head of his cock against her slit, gathering moisture and teasing her sensitive clit before lining himself up against her slick entrance.  He pulled his lips from hers once more, as if asking one last time for her consent.  She whimpered in objection and greedily pulled his mouth back down to hers.  He kissed her fiercely as he entered her in one thrust, unable to suppress a groan of utter satisfaction at her impossibly tight heat.  She made a singular, quiet noise of distress, but once he had pushed past her barrier, she was able to distract herself from the ache by desperately moving her mouth against his.  The surge of power he felt at being the one to take her virtue was exhilarating, as if he owned a part of her that no other man ever would.  He wanted to hear her declare herself as his.  Slowly, he began easing out of her, and aside from the slightest wince, she showed no oppositional behavior.      

Loki couldn’t imagine she felt pleasure at this point, everything was still too raw and new.  But she was so damn wet and so fucking tight that the little control he had managed to hold onto was quickly slipping away.  She was being such a good girl for him, behaving exactly as she said she would and simply letting him use her for his pleasure.  Her unwavering compliance compelled him to show her mercy and take her slowly, despite the growing animalistic need to claim her, to mark her with his seed.

He was shocked to feel her begin to reciprocate his thrusts once he found a rhythm.  Her cheeks remained pink but this time from arousal and exertion rather than humiliation.  He pushed himself to his knees, tugging her closer to him so that he was able to spread her open even wider with an arm hooked beneath each bent knee. 

She mewled, her lips remaining partially open in shock as his thrusts changed angles.  The prince’s pace was still relaxed and his thrusts weren’t horribly rushed, but it was clear by the stunned, helpless expression on her face that he was doing something right.  Though he missed her lips against his, he loved the heady sense of control he had looking down at her.  Initially too soft for him to hear, he eventually realized she was whimpering softly, each small cry increasing in volume as he continued to fuck her.

“Do you like having me inside you?”

Her lips were parted but she couldn’t form any words.  She managed a dazed nod. 

“You agree to serve me? To be mine?”

Somehow there was a type of invisible force that connected that question to her throbbing cunt, the inquiry alone making her walls contract in one involuntary muscle spasm that made him hiss.  Again, the girl nodded dumbly.  She was quickly losing the ability to think properly, which should’ve worried her but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Tell me,” he rasped, his hips beginning to snap against her with more force.

She seriously, truly attempted to respond vocally, but she has seemingly lost complete control of her ability to speak.

“Tell me!”

“You,” Signe managed to choke, “Loki, I belong to you,” she panted.

Watching her lose control was driving him mad, and once she admitted his ownership of her, he couldn’t slow the pace at which he surged against her.

She started seeing stars.  Whatever he was doing to her right now was even more intense than last night.  The ardent, feral way he looked at her made her feel odd, like she belonged beneath him.  She liked how primal he made her feel, and how animalistic he himself had become.  Signe prided herself on being well educated and mannered, but none of that mattered when he was buried to the hilt in her wet, hot, tight cunt.  What mattered was giving him everything and anything she had to offer.  He was thriving off of her submission.  With his cock deep inside her, the petulant, unhappy prince disappeared, revealing the powerful, confident man above her.

Loki managed to reposition them so that each time he rammed himself into her, his pelvis ground against her clit.  Any train of thought Signe had disintegrated completely as a wave of pleasure hit her, forcing her to arch off the bed in an attempt to get even closer to her prince.  That confusing feeling between pain and pleasure built and built until she exploded.  She cried out as she came on his cock, eliciting a grunt as he grit his teeth to keep from coming until she finished.  He was able to fuck her through her orgasm before he fell forward, burying his face against her neck as he relinquished control. 

He had to chant it several times before she realized what he was murmuring against her ear, but once she heard him she couldn’t help the involuntary squeeze her velvety walls gave which sent him over the edge.  Loki lost control of his thrusts, his hips jackhammering against her, growling low in his throat as he came.

As she came down from her high, Signe sighed, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the new sensation of being filled, relishing in the feeling of his hot release.  His hips gave a few unsteady pumps before he lay atop her sweaty form, careful not to crush her with his own.  Loki’s panting breath was still puffing warmly against her neck and she nuzzled him, gently stroking the hair at the nape of his neck.  He repeated the word once more, accentuating it with a moderately rough nip at her neck.

_“Mine.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those visual learners.  
> Just in case you missed it.
> 
>  
> 
>  


	7. His Lucky Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bathtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muchas, muchas gracias to [TehLadyCav](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TehLadyCav/pseuds/TehLadyCav) for beta'ing and being available during nocturnal hours for me to bother.

_**The next morning, Loki, in all his naked glory, pulled a sleepy Signe from his bed and guided her to the bathroom.**_ Despite the servants busy adding salts and oils to the steaming pool of water, Loki strolled in completely nude and nonchalant.  Minerals were often added after a particularly rough training session, and briefly he wondered why they were being poured into the bath now, but he had other things to worry about, such as the delectable girl seeking shelter behind him.  Had he bothered to apply knowledge of battle aches to the current situation, he’d realize that, perhaps after hearing sounds of passion echoing through the halls in the very early hours of the morning, the maids had generously foreseen the likelihood of Signe being less than comfortable in the morning.

Loki was not shy.  Signe, on the other hand, had only ever been seen nude by Loki.  He chuckled at her modesty but respectfully covered her until they were alone.  He then led her up the stairs to the bath; a luxurious, spacious, hexagonal stone tub situated in the middle of several pillars tiled with various shades of gold. 

Signe groaned in pleasure as she waded in, the wonderfully hot water easing some of her aches.  Loki slid in, sitting across from her and intently watched his lover as she closed her eyes in satisfaction.  One of the servants had piled her glossy, golden blonde hair atop her head, though Loki much preferred it down and flowing over her shoulders.  Several little curls had formed around at the nape of her neck from the heat and moisture, and the warm temperature of the water had caused the milky skin of her neck and chest to flush slightly.

With a contented sigh and a languid stretch, her lids had fluttered open.  She caught him looking at her and bashfully lowered her gaze to the surface of the water.  Unused to seeing her so self-conscious and meek, he studied her face.

“You were never shy as a child."

He watched her steadily, “What changed?”

Signe laughed nervously and crossed her arms to cover her chest.

“You’ve seen me naked,” she blushed, averting her eyes, “and in the throes of passion, my prince.  Those are pieces of me that you alone have experienced.”

Loki nodded.  He had bathed with a few of his girls over the years, but never had been like this.  He never felt the need to speak to or care for them.  Her insecurity made him frown and he leaned forward, grabbing her arms away from her chest and pulling her through the water, into his lap so that she straddled him.  A gasp escaped from her parted lips and she unexpectedly caught herself on his shoulders.  When tugging her closer, her wet breasts slid across his hard chest.  He groaned in response.

Though her heart was thundering against her chest, she steeled herself and met his glance.  Never before had she experienced eye contact that was so _intense._   She had locked eyes with him hundreds of times before, but this was different.  Now that she had allowed him to see her in ways no one else had, something had changed, though she couldn’t name it exactly.              

She wriggled a bit, trying to settle though startled and flushed when something stiff and unfamiliar brushed against her thigh. 

He smiled, somewhat sheepishly, which is not an expression he wore often both because it including smiling and feeling slightly embarrassed, and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. 

“You, my little peach, have have absolutely nothing to be timid about,” he crooned, rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.  He leaned forward, his mouth brushing against her ear. “Your body is perfect.  You are beautiful, my dear.  I mean that sincerely,” he said. 

“And, you’re soft in all of the right places; I can take you as hard as I want and you won’t break,” he growled.

“Loki,” his name was a plea on her lips as her nipple immediately hardened under his expert attention.   She squirmed, vaguely perplexed at why it was that attention paid to her breasts felt like it was connected directly between her legs, though as he pinched gently, the thought drifted away.

“It pleases me that you’re too distracted by my hands to bother with titles,” he rumbled, nipping at her earlobe. 

Again she laughed, though this time the sound was breathier and less anxious.  As he continued his attentions, her ability to think diminished and she whimpered at him in need.  As he ran one wet finger over the purple marks he’d left the night before on her breasts and neck, a fierce sense of possessiveness crept over him, and a foreign urge to mark her even further.  The prince was nipping along her jaw when he heard her whine differently than she had before.  He pulled away and looked at her, but her eyes were still shut and her furrowed brow was relaxing.  Loki glanced down to where he had nibbled and frowned when he saw the angry red indentations from his teeth.  Words of apology couldn’t find their way past his lips, so instead he laved his tongue over the marks in an attempt to soothe her and this time Signe hummed in appreciation. Her prince cupped each globe of her rear in his hands and squeezed, coaxing her hips into a thrust.  The fact that he could urge her body into such lewd acts was overwhelming. 

It was known that younger men were insatiable when it came to sex, though she had never understood why.  If the things this man could make her body feel were any indicator, she had a newfound respect for lust-crazed youth. With a whimper, head fell back; she was completely entranced by all the ways this man knew how to reduce her to wordlessness without even penetrating her. 

When he pulled his mouth from her neck, she placed hers on his.  Coyly she pressed her lips along the juncture between his neck and shoulder, her tongue darting out, and this time it was his turn to groan.  Encouraged, she ran her tongue along the column of his throat, which made his grip on her hips tighten.  Her mouth wandered until she felt his pulse beating beneath her tongue and she latched on to the throbbing beat.  Loki grunted, using his hands to press her down against his cock, grinding greedily against her.  

 Though thoroughly enjoying her administrations, he pulled her mouth from him and they watched each other, both breathing heavily.  She was still incredibly expressive, just as she was in her younger years.  When they touched each other, reactions broadcasted across her face with animated smiles of pride as she discovered something that made him moan, and pleasured pants accented by the raising of her furrowed brows when he caressed her just right.

The prince deftly slipped a finger between her folds and stroked, finding her deliciously wet considering the short amount of time they had been in the water.  Just as she began enjoying the sensation of his fingers in her, he lifted her in one arm and used the other to slowly guide himself into her slick channel.  She was sore and he knew he was being selfish, but he couldn’t be so close to her and _not_ have her.

He pressed his mouth to hers to stifle her choked gasp, and gripped her hips to start leisurely rocking her over himself.  She pulled her mouth from his, jaw slackened in bliss he loosened his grip on her, allowing her to explore with a few thrusts of her own. 

She was tender from the night before, but the ache was fading and in its place emerged throbbing need.  there was nothing else she’d rather be doing; she loved having him inside her. 

Loki smirked; the emotions that danced across her face were simply delectable.  While he was inside her, she either didn’t or _couldn’t_ control her expressions.

Her breath stuttered as she thrust herself over him at just the right angle, dragging that sensitive little spot against the velvety length of him.  She repeated the movement and adjusted her hands to better grip his shoulders for stability. 

He watched with satisfaction as his companion rocked herself to a peak, the woman who was but a virgin last night riding him, likely unaware of the of the sweet whines and moans she made as she did so.   As she began to come, Loki dug his fingers into her hips and began thrusting up against her.  When his thumb found and her little bundle of nerves, the poor girl screamed, unprepared for such a sensory overload of wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. Her cry echoed in the bathroom, spurring Loki on.  Pumping his hips up into her, he tilted his head back in pleasurable agony as he came, spurred on by the rhythmic pulsing of her walls around him. 

They sat there panting for several minutes, her forehead resting on his shoulder.  He stroked a few hairs from her face, running his thumb along her jaw. 

“Relax, my girl, let’s get you clean.”

Loki reached around Signe to the side of the bath for soap and lathered the bar between his hands. She put up a weak argument, pointing out that she could do it herself, but the prince ignored her protests and gently moved rearranged them.  Holding her to him, he sat once more, this time with her back to his front.  Lazily her head dropped back against his shoulder and he began soaping between her breasts, then her arms and legs, and in between.  While washing her, he spent far longer than necessary simply because he enjoyed hearing her the coo and sigh.

Loki gently moved her from his lap with the intention of washing himself, but Signe shook her head and stole his soap. 

There was a set of three small stairs that led gradually into the water, to the ledge they were sitting on.  Signe sat on the lower of the two steps, still partially submerged in the water, and urged Loki between her legs.  He chucked, a noise that she was unsure she’d ever hear again, and lay back against her.  Working the soap into a lather, she moved her hands to his shoulders and began working the hard muscles beneath her hands.  Squeezing and kneading, she stroked and pressed her hands across his entire body, both of their breaths catching as she hugged around him to reach his chest. 

Loki frowned as he felt her pull away.  She climbed the steps, returning a moment later with a pitcher and some shampoo.  She held the jug beneath the surface so that it filled, and gingerly rinsed the suds from his body.  Signe then instructed him to recline so that his head was in her lap, and she refilled the pitcher to wet his hair.  As she poured a dollop of shampoo into her hand and began working it through his dark hair, her nails gently grazing his scalp, the prince groaned, his hand grabbing her ankle beneath the water as if he needed to keep himself steady.  She smiled in satisfaction and rinsed his hair, mindful to keep the liquid from his ears and eyes.

Signe helped him sit upright and brushed his wet hair from his face as she tried to decipher the look on his face.  His expression was serious, even as she smiled at him.  She quickly removed the pins that kept her hair secured high on her head and once it hung free, submerged herself beneath the water.  Loki watched as she repeated the same ritual she had performed on him.  Since when did such a domestic act feel so erotic?  And _intimate_?  As his mind cleared he began to grow restless, anxious. 

Once Signe had rinsed her hair, she turned to him and held out her hand, intending to exit the pool.  Loki looked at her uncomfortably.

“How do you wish to proceed?”

She frowned and sat next to him.

“I’m not sure what you mean, my prince.”

She kept her tone quiet, she could tell he was uncomfortable.

He looked away as he formed his reply.

“You provided your services and upheld your end of the deal.  I agreed to be… _more open_ with you in exchange.  What would you like to know?”

At first, she was offended.  He made her sound like a common whore.  She may have officially become _his_ whore last night, but she most definitely did not have repertoire of _services_ that she offered.  However, she didn’t think he spoke with the intention of hurting her.

“Loki,” she hesitated.    

“Last night, when you took me to your bed, you could’ve chosen to hurt me both emotionally and physically.  But you did neither.”

He started to argue, but she quieted him with a raised hand.

“Please, let me finish. You took care of me, you made sure my body was ready to receive you,” she blushed, “and you were patient when I knew nothing of being with a man.  And then, this morning, you _bathed_ me.”

He was growing agitated, she could tell.  Perhaps psychoanalyzing his actions wasn’t the best approach.

“What I mean is that I require nothing from you.  Thank you for spending time with me.  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

She did her best to smile encouragingly at him.

“Never before have I enjoyed a bath such as this.  I hope as long as you feel that the pleasure I provided you with last night is equal in weight to the time spent with me this morning, we can continue.”

She meant every word that she said.  Last night and this morning she caught glimpses of _her_ Loki, the Loki she once knew.  She was quite sure that his façade would return the minute they left the tub, but their time spent together encouraged a little bubble of hope to form in her chest. 

When Loki didn’t respond, she leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then quietly climbed the steps from the pool and grabbed a towel and robe and left the bathroom, calling for the maids, leaving Loki in the cooling water to stare pensively.


	8. Stay Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Signe is Signe and Loki is... unapologetically Loki.

**_While lounging in the sun on Loki’s balcony, Signe was summoned to Frigga’s rooms._** As she walked through the corridors, flocked by several handmaidens, she tried to exude a façade of calm, even as her stomach rolled. 

  Neither she, nor Loki, made any effort to hide her now permanent residence in Loki’s rooms from the castle staff.  The change was bound to become gossip, assuming it hadn’t already.  While she wasn’t exactly proud of coexisting with a man while unmarried, she also wasn’t ashamed to be helping Loki in the only way she knew how.

When she agreed to share Loki’s bed, she did not question whether it was wrong or right, instead, she followed her instinct.  But what if Frigga didn’t approve?  She wondered if the queen would send her home to her parents; considering Loki had thoroughly debauched her, she certainly hoped not. 

She pressed the door handle lever with her thumb and stepped inside the queen’s sitting room.  It was difficult to ignore the dull pain throbbing between her legs, especially when sharing a room with the mother of the man responsible for her discomfort.  Frigga stood from her chair to embrace the younger girl but stopped as her eyes widened in surprise. 

She surveyed the purple marks on Signe’s neck and sighed.  “Oh, Signe…”  

Signe unconsciously ran her fingers over the bruises; how could she have forgotten?  She walked to a large mounted mirror and examined the claim Loki left on her. 

“They look worse than they are.  I do not regret what I did, Your Majesty.”

“Did he—.”

Signe interrupted with a curt shake of her head.  “No, not at all.  He didn’t force me to do anything.  He was... I saw glimpses of the old Loki last night.  He was _kind_.  I’d never...  He knew of my inexperience, and he was… attentive.”  Her heated cheeks flooded with even more color.

Frigga still looked tormented by guilt.

Signe grabbed her hand and squeezed reassuringly.  “I knew the risks, and I’m willing to accept the consequences.  If this is what he needs to come back… Then I’d do it a hundred times over.”

The queen nodded shakily.  Fondly, she cupped Signe’s face with one hand and the girl’s cheek with her thumb.

Signe gave her a reassuring smile and called for lunch to be served.  She feared Frigga would begin to associate her only with her son’s pain.  Dining with royal ladies in waiting would lighten the mood and allow them to simply _be_ without the weight of Loki’s wellbeing hanging over them.

x

By the time she made her way to the banquet hall for the evening meal, Signe hadn’t seen Loki since their bath.  Her heart sank when he wasn’t at the Royal Table.  What if he was avoiding her?  Or if she’d pushed him away with what she’d said?  She was going to drive herself mad with hypotheticals.  She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and proceeded to the table.

Settling into the same chair as the night before, Signe began chatting with the ladies around her.  She was genuinely enjoying herself midway through dinner when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar saunter.

Loki casually strolled into the hall with his arm wrapped around another noblewoman’s waist.  He whispered something to her that made her throw her head back in laughter as they made their way towards the table.  Just as last night, Loki sat across from her, his lover seated at his side.  Though at first he ignored her, whispering and laughing with the woman next to him, the prince eventually glanced up and caught Signe’s eye.  He sneered. 

The heat of humiliation and jealousy bloomed across her cheeks.  She looked away immediately, suddenly very focused on the lacquered finish of the table.  There was not a doubt in her mind that Loki did this with the intent to hurt her.  He made that grossly clear.  What did this mean for their agreement?  Did he want her in his bed tonight?  It didn’t matter.  Despite the ache in her chest, she refused to give up on him, to give up on their deal. 

Stubbornly she remained at the table to finish eating, forcing herself to periodically contribute to conversation.  Everything in her screamed to glance at Loki.  Was he looking at her?  Or was the woman with her breasts pressed against his arm still monopolizing his attention?  

With her last bite she took a large swallow of wine.  The unexpected strength as the beverage burned her throat almost made her cough, but she suppressed the urge until she was far enough out of the hall that she wouldn’t draw attention.

In the passageway, her coughing caused her eyes to water and a few tears fell as she gasped for air, but they continued to trickle down her cheeks even after she caught her breath.  She ducked into an alcove and covered her mouth, physically quieting herself until he eyes ran dry.  Signe used the corner of her sleeve to dry her face and forced her uneven breaths to regulate.  She sniffed a few more times on her way to Loki’s chambers, but kept her tears at bay.      

x

That evening after her maids tended to her, Signe slipped beneath the sheets of Loki’s bed alone.  Sleep evaded her.  Her mind raced, thoughts returning to the cruel smile he’d given her at dinner.  Signe forced herself not to wallow in self-pity.  He wasn’t hers.  She had no claim to him.  Her jealousy was unmerited.  Grabbing one of Loki’s spare pillows, she turned to her side and clutched it to her chest.  She closed her eyes buried her face against it, soothing herself to sleep with Loki’s scent on her mind.

When Loki wandered into his room several hours later, he took a step back in surprise to see his bed occupied.  Liquor had slowed his thinking, but as he caught sight of Signe’s family sigil on the stacked trunks in the corner, memories of his new companion returned.  He had to hand it to her, he really hadn’t expected her to follow through.  He was, however, quite glad that she did.  Despite her inexperience, she was a joy to fuck. 

Shucking his shirt and dropping it to the floor, Loki began unlacing his trousers.  He swatted the green velvet canopy out of his way and crawled onto the mattress.  Eagerly he uncovered the sleeping woman’s body, disappointed to find her dressed in a thin gown.  No matter.  The prince pushed Signe onto her back which caused her to stir, rubbing sleepily at her eyes.  Loki paid no mind as he began rucking her nightgown up around her thighs.

“Loki?”

“Shhhh, darling,” he crooned.  He pulled his hardening cock from his trousers and lazily stroked himself, while knocking her thighs apart and pushing her panties to the side.  Like a child, he groaned in annoyance to find she wasn’t ready for him, so he licked his thumb and began rubbing her clit. 

The unfamiliar pleasure that shot through her cleared Signe’s sleep-addled brain of drowsiness.

“My Prince!”

“You sound absolutely _scandalized_ , my dear.  Are you not available for my use?  Are you denying me?”

Signe panted as she gathered her bearings.  He was half on top of her, his hand buried between her legs.

He growled impatiently.  “Are you?”

“No! My Lord, I wouldn’t.”

She was sore, sleepy and pretty sure he was drunk.  But he was still Loki, and she refused to let him intimidate her. 

“Good girl.”

When a whimper of arousal escaped her lips, Loki’s pupils dilated.   Signe clapped her hand over her mouth in disgrace.  Intellectually, she knew his behavior was lewd…  But it was difficult to think when his thumb was rubbing in smooth delectable circles.

Involuntarily her knees fell open, providing leverage to then thrust her hips up, off the bed against his hand.  His chuckle was still rakish, but the venom from earlier was gone.

“My, my.  Did someone miss me?”

As he slipped a finger inside of her, Signe found herself at a loss for words.

 “There we are,” he purred, quite pleased at how wet she was.  “My perfect little peach is all ready for me.”  Loki leaned in so his lips brushed against hers, but when she went to kiss him, he pulled back.  “Ah, ah,” he shook his head.  Signe swallowed hard and lay back against the pillow.  Again, Loki’s lips ghosted against hers, but this time she stayed still.  His breath was hot against her mouth and his words were taunting.  He’d made his point; he was in control.  He’d had his hands on her for less than ten minutes and already her body was singing for him.

When he nuzzled his nose against hers, Signe turned her head to face the wall a fresh tear trickled down her cheek.  He took full advantage of her exposed neck.  In stark contrast to his previous actions, he brushed tender kisses against her skin.  Each time his lips touched down he pumped his finger into her channel.  She was swollen from their previous couplings and the thought of her being even tighter than before had him rutting against her thigh.

His cruel words and affectionate touches were so incredibly confusing, and she couldn’t think with him so close:  She determined that was the reasoning for the word that tumbled out of her mouth.

“Please,” she whispered.  Her mind was bewildered but her body certainly wasn’t. 

“As My Lady wishes.”

He crawled atop her and dragged the head of his cock against her slit, making a point to rub the head against her clit.  The pathetic whine she uttered was filled with such desperation that he groaned and sealed his mouth against hers.

This girl had no experience with men, no redeemable sexual skills, but she _wanted_ him in ways no other woman ever had.  It was absolutely intoxicating.  That evening he had been barbaric towards her and _still_ she parted her legs for him without complaint. 

Cock wet with her slick, he pressed into her, savoring the sensation.  Tantalizingly slow, he began to pull out of her, thrusting back in at the same agonizing pace.  Signe was practically writhing beneath him as she wrapped one leg around his hips, quickly following with the other and then hooking her ankles behind him. 

Loki groaned in surprise as she met his thrust.  Grinning, he rose up on his knees and snapped his hips hard against hers.

Signe had been making an effort to muffle her cries, but when he changed positions, she gasped.

“Loki!”

This only spurred Loki on and his pace increased while he looked down at her.  Her face was contorted in ecstasy, her brows furrowed and her mouth open in a silent scream.  He could feel her trying to buck her hips, so he surged forward, pressing her knees to her chest and rendering her powerless. 

Her tears and fear were gone, and in their place were awe and raw desire.  Loki toyed with her, slowing down until she begged him to take her harder, then making her scream when he drove swiftly into her.  He kept her on edge, using her cries and facial expressions to gauge how close she was to coming. 

As he hunched over her with a hand planted on either side of her head, she gripped his wrist so hard that her nails sank into his skin.  Signe’s other hand was tangled in the bedclothes as she searched for something, _anything_ to cling to.  She had never felt so out of control, even the night before when he had made her explode.  This time, the pleasure was making her crazy, and he kept denying her.  That spring in her belly was coiled so tight she was shaking, but he wouldn’t let her release it.

 _“Please_ ,” she gasped between breaths. 

This time, Loki’s smile was different, almost triumphant as he grinned down at her. 

“Say my name, kitten, and I’ll let you come,” he rasped.

At first, all she could get out was babble, but when he began to slow down she gained enough cognizance to beg him.

_“Please, please, Loki, please!”_

With a satisfied grunt, Loki fell to his elbows, resting the majority of his weight on Signe as he drilled into her like a man possessed.  Almost immediately she came, shattering completely, her cunt pulsing _hard_ on Loki’s cock.  Squeezing her thighs and crossing her ankles even tighter as she fucked him back for all she was worth.  What happened after that, she couldn’t say.  She remembered a faint ringing sound and her vision going black, and though it only seemed last a few moments, she was almost certain she lost consciousness.      

Loki, on the other hand, was riding high.  To his delighted surprise he felt a gush of moisture flood around his cock as his delectable peach came.  Teasing her had been enjoyable, but he was done tormenting himself.  His hips slapped loudly against hers as he crushed his mouth against her lips with bruising force.  Delirious, Signe still managed to return the kiss after slipping her fingers into his hair.  Loki came with a groan, his hips stuttering as he flooded her cunt with his hot seed.

Neither moved, they both lay there panting.  Signe didn’t even mind his weight resting on her.  Before rolling off, Loki pressed a kiss to her temple.  _That man was so fucking confusing._

Chest still heaving, she stumbled out of the bed, the culmination of their coupling wet on her thighs. 

Once she made it to the bathroom, she filled the bath with steaming hot water and a handful of salt crystals the maids had used to soothe her aches earlier that morning.  Without bothering the check the temperature, she splashed in, ducking beneath the surface to wet her hair.  As she resurfaced, she pushed it from her face and sighed.  She should probably get back in bed with Loki, but she needed room to think.  _Would he ever be satisfied with what she could give him?_

She realized she must’ve asked the question out loud when she heard him respond from the other room.

“Satisfaction is not in my nature.”


	9. I Don't Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wining, dining and drama.

_**Crawling into bed with Loki after her bath was easier than she expected.**_   It helped that he was most definitely passed out, sprawled across the mattress and half dressed.  Signe ran her fingers through her wet hair, rolling her eyes as she tiptoed to his side of the bed to pull the comforter over him.  In so many ways, he was still such a child, and she felt protective of him.  Even if he took blatant advantage of her.

That morning, she found herself waking to the sensation of a chilled finger tracing her jawline.  When she opened her eyes she caught him watching her intently.  He had an odd, thoughtful expression on his face as he touched her.  She noticed his skin was slightly ashen and she imagined he felt ill from the excessive wine the night before.

“Would you like some water, My Lord? Shall I fetch a healer to remedy your headache?”

Loki started to shake his head but was forced to stop as the act made him dizzy.

“No, no healer, I’ll be fine.  But water.”

“Please,” he added.

She poured him a goblet and held it to his lips, gently cupping the back of his head as she helped him drink.  One he’d had his fill he pushed the cup away and wiped his mouth, looking at her strangely.

“You didn’t fight me last night.”

“Of course not, My Lord.”

“Why?”  His tone was petulant, as if he was disappointed she hadn’t struggled.

“I had no reason to fight you, your Highness.  I’m not ignorant as to why I share your bed.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her skeptically.

“And you didn’t care that only hours before I’d had another woman?”

Signe paused.  _Of course she cared._   It wasn’t even that he had been with someone else… And it wasn’t that he’d come to her inebriated and aroused, which, she supposed, should bother her.  But it didn’t.  What hurt was that he continued to take her with such resentment and animosity, and that he became even more withdrawn once he finished.  She let out a sigh.

“I care, Loki.”  She stopped, clasping her hands in her lap.  Would being open with him distance them even more?   Or should she stay demure and reticent as she had been?  Both options seemed equally hazardous.  But living this way was beginning to wear on her, and it had only been several days.  Forcing herself to submit to Loki's mistreat grew increasingly difficult as time wore on.

He raised a brow at her.

Signe tossed her hands in the air. “I don’t know what you want, Loki.  You asked for a companion, I’m serving you as your companion.  Does it bother me that you’re with other women? Of course it does.  But I have no claim to you, we both know that.  If that’s something you feel you need to flaunt before me, I’m not going to stop you.  You know I can’t.” 

Signe scowled.

Loki smiled. 

“Did you do that on purpose?”

Loki shrugged, trying and failing to hide a giant grin.  “You’ve been boring.”

Signe sputtered as embarrassment bloomed across her cheeks.  Constantly keeping her mouth closed while Loki behaved like a child was _not_ enjoyable, but she was doing it for him!  Had she been going about this all wrong? 

Loki raised his brows and shrugged his shoulders innocently.

She figured she could either throw something at him or laugh.  So, she laughed.

He was being a total ass, but this was a side of Loki she knew.  He’d tricked her into dropping her mask of complacent submission.  He was no longer satisfied with an emotionless body in his bed.  This was progress.

x

One evening shortly after their heated conversation, Signe returned to their rooms to find her chambers teaming with castle staff.  Upon entering she was herded into the center of the room and swarmed by jewelers and clothiers and seamstresses.  Signe was accustomed to formal events, but the lengths to which someone went to provide her with such a formal wardrobe implied this was something more.  A servant explained the prince had announced that going forward, Signe was required to be at Loki’s side at all feasts, ceremonies, receptions, and other royal functions.

Signe made nothing of it, knowing how fickle her prince could be.  It’s not that she wasn’t hopeful, she just didn’t want to face the disappointment when it turned out to be a rumor

Several days later, Signe found a pine colored floor length gown set out for her in her their rooms.  The rich, green strapless silk dress had a peplum waist that flattered Signe’s figure nicely.  There was a team of servants prepared to wash and dress her, as well as someone to style her hair.  Upon donning the gown, Signe gasped when a cool draft breezed against the skin of her leg.  She brushed her fingers against the side of the dress only to come into contact with bare flesh.  At mid-thigh the dress split, revealing a shocking amount of thigh.  _Wonderful._ Signe ignored the bashful glances of the servants and instead settled into the chair, allowing the women a chance to fix her hair.         

Loki came to collect her shortly after the maids had finished with her.  He had clearly been anticipating seeing the dress on Signe, as his eyes went directly to the scandalously exposed skin of her thigh.  They continued to heatedly rake over the rest of her body and the corner of his mouth quirked in what she assumed was some sort of appreciation.  He waved his index finger, motioning for her turn around.  She complied and spun for him, glaring as he let out a whistle at the high slit of the dress.  She huffed and linked her arm with his.

“That’s enough of,” she motioned at his leering eyes, “that.”  Impatiently she tugged on him.  “Let’s go.”

Loki challenged her with a quirk of his brow, but when she didn’t falter, bent into an elaborate bow.

“As My Lady wishes.”

x

To her surprise, Signe enjoyed the night more than she expected.  Serving as arm candy to the prince was a rather exhilarating experience.  Asgardian nobles and their wives fawned over Prince Loki’s lovely companion.  She went through the motions of socializing; polite pleasantries and light conversation as well as graciously thanking guests for attending.  Loki seemed quite pleased with her comportment, as well as her appearance, which he thought

was lovely, but distracting.

The Prince thoroughly enjoyed having her close to him all night.  Watching in her element, dancing around and entertaining guests just like a good hostess, all the while dressed exactly as he’d decreed.  He loved holding her at his side with his arm around her waist.  He got a rise every time his hand wandered to areas it didn’t belong, which, without fail, caused her to stiffen and glare at him. 

At one point the hand that had cupped her ribcage wandered upwards, subtly caressing the side of her breast.  It was one thing to debauch her in private, but entirely different public.  Signe turned to Loki and smiled sweetly before stamping on his foot with her heel. 

Until dessert was served, dinner had been a pleasant, tame affair.   Signe had admittedly indulged in a bit too much wine.  Sitting beside Loki felt more intimate than strolling around with him.  She was no longer able to hide behind the polite and simple façade of a noblewoman. As a result, she was pleasantly buzzed.  Then dessert was served.

 When the pudding was set before Loki, he grinned devilishly before swiping the tip of his finger through the confection and holding it to her lips.

 _He wanted to feed her like a pet? Fine._ Signe locked eyes with him and leaned forward, slowly sliding her mouth over his finger until her lips brushed against the knuckle on his hand.   Loki’s eyes widened in shock as a low grunt sounded from his throat.  Signe assumed the noise was the result of stifling a groan.  The thought made her grin as she sucked gently before leisurely slipping her lips off his fingers, licking them slyly to ensure she’d gotten every drop.   

 Loki seemed reluctant to leave the table when it came time to dance.  Emboldened by alcohol, Signe sympathetically stroked her palm against the growing bulge in his trousers, cooing in his ear as she felt him harden even more.

“My Prince, won’t you dance with me?”

Had she been anyone else, the icy, the incensed glare Loki shot at her would’ve been terrifying.  But, she was the Prince’s oldest friend and present bed companion, and his furious expression only made her laugh. 

Loki rose and shakily gripped her bicep, hauling her in front of him and using the ruffle of her dress to cover himself.  He had the decency to note that if he’d selected a gown with a fuller skirt, hiding his erection would’ve been much simpler.  Instead, he _had_ to parade her around half dressed.  He supposed it was karma.  _Still worth it_ , he thought with a smirk.

Signe led him to the open floor and stepped into his arms.  She considerately took the lead seeing as Loki was struggling to think each time his hips brushed against hers.  If she were honest with herself, Loki wasn’t the only one affected.  Teasing him in public like that invigorated her, giving her a heady sense of power.  For the remainder of the evening, the two continued to clandestinely tease one another. 

That night, Loki took her up against the stone wall of their chambers.  She learned his true intention for the slit in her skirt when he neglected to remove it before unapologetically slamming into her.  The prince taunted her when he felt how wet she was, but Signe, still feeling rather audacious from the wine, shut him up with a hard kiss.  She nipped at his lower lip, making him growl low in his throat as he thrust wildly into her. 

By the time they made it to the floor, Signe’s dress was all but ruined, and she had lost one of her slippers.  For the first time, she wasn’t the only one with possessive marks on her body.  Loki’s neck had a smattering of bruises, left by his enthusiastic pupil.  After claiming each other again and again, they curled into one another on a lush, green tapestry rug and slept until midday.

x

When time came for the celebration of the Summer Solstice, Signe had become accustomed to accompanying Loki.  A tentative camaraderie developed between the two, and even Odin commented on Loki enjoying himself at functions with Signe at his side.  Frigga worried that commenting may threaten the fragile relationship her son and Signe had developed, so she remained quiet.  However, whenever she caught Signe’s eye, she beamed with gratitude.

After the pudding incident, Loki called a truce and from then on Signe selected dresses without Loki’s input.  For the Solstice, she had her pick of dozens of stunning, intricately designed gowns, all displayed in their rooms with matching jewelry and slippers.  She chose an emerald green dress with an open neckline, a heavily beaded bodice, and pleated layers of chiffon that flared and rippled with each step she took.  While standing before the mirror during final dress alterations, a maid approached her with a flat, square jewelry box. 

“His Highness asked that you wear this, my Lady.”

When the box lid flicked open, inside sat a delicate, white gold collar studded with glittering emeralds and accented with diamonds.  Signe lifted her hair, exposing her neck so that the servant could fasten the necklace.  The cool metal on her heated skin sent a shiver through her.

As a noblewoman, she owned plenty of extravagant jewelry but none that compared to Loki’s gift. Signe fingered the stones thoughtfully, surprised at the weight.  She had to admit, the piece looked magnificent around her slender neck.  However, she highly doubted Loki gave it to her out of pure generosity.

The symbolism of the circular necklace wasn’t lost on her.  She’d read Midgardian history books detailing cultures that viewed humans as property, and the jewelry around her neck looked quite similar to slave collars she’d seen illustrated.  Clearly hers was superfluous in comparison, but she received Loki’s message loud and clear.  She sighed, her fingers still toying with ornament.  She thought they were past the point of staking claims.  After the memorable Night of the Pudding, he didn’t seem to objectify her quite as much.  At least, not in in front of the court.  What caused the need for him to publicly own her?

x

The night began with dancing.  When Loki took Signe into his arms immediately his eyes snapped to her neck.  Though the attention he paid her wasn’t unusual, she noticed a distinct lack of mischief in his expression.  Instead, his lips curved into a slight smile.  He looked genuinely _pleased_.  Not pleased with himself, but simply content.  However, Signe _knew_ Loki.  Even if deviancy wasn’t his intent, there was always a motive, whether he was aware of it or not.  The necklace was more than a bauble to him.  She had to be tactful or Loki would feel accused and shut down.  She cleared her throat, breaking his train of thought and his eyes flicked to hers. 

“Thank you for the necklace, my Prince,”

Loki acknowledged her with a nod, but remained entranced.  With a sigh, he moved his hand from her waist to trace a finger over the ridges of the jewels. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion.  I wanted to see you in green.”  
“My Lord, almost all of my clothes are green,” she reminded him with a smile.

He shook his head.  “No, this is different.”

Loki slipped his finger beneath the band and crooked it, pulling her forward.  She was

close enough to feel his breath against her face.  He watched her face for objection, and when he found none, met her lips in a tender kiss. 

It was different than how he kissed her in bed.  There was no tongue, no biting, just his lips massaging hers.  His lips tasted tart, like the pomegranate he’d nibbled on earlier.    Reflexively she slid a hand to the nape of his neck.  The rest of the room faded away to a dull roar as Signe’s eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed against him.

Loki nuzzled her nose and pulled away.  Signe’s brow furrowed in confusion.  _He was behaving so oddly._   She smelled no alcohol on him, not to mention the fact that wine made him handsy opposed to romantic.  

“When I commissioned it, all I could think of was you naked and in my bed with it around your neck.”

Signe felt cheeks flush and she hid her face against his. 

Why was he being so charming?  Her stomach was beginning to churn with uncertainty.  She still couldn’t read his expression and grew concerned.

“What’s wrong, my Lord?”

“Nothing, Lady Signe,” he murmured against her hair.   _This was driving her insane._   Something was happening and he was keeping it from her, as is his right, but his softhearted touches were frightening her.

He could tell she was distressed.

“Mother spoke with me again about marriage,” he murmured.

Signe felt the air leave her lungs and she gasped in an attempt to breathe.

“I see.”

“She should’ve known better.  I told her the same thing I always do, that I’m not interested.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.  This time, it was Signe’s turn to touch the necklace as her heart fluttered.  After considering his words, she came to a realization:  The necklace didn’t just claim her as his, it proclaiming _him_ as _hers_.

Pensively resting the side of her face against his chest, as she quietly watched the other guests.  Signe must have been more tired than she realized, because the rest of the night passed in a blur of smiles and flashes of emerald green. 


	10. He's a Hustler

_**When Loki reached for Signe the next morning, he grumbled when he discovered her gone from his bed.**_   He’d been eager to admire his collar on her. 

After such a lengthy, redundant marriage conversation with his mother, the desire to prove that he was an unsuitable husband had been strong.  He could think of no better manner in which to do so than by parading his mistress at Summer Solstice with his brand around her neck.  However, watching Signe wear the necklace was unexpectedly pleasing.  He felt a pull in his lower belly when he envisioned her lounging dressed in nothing but the collar.  Where was she?  He wanted her.

Scrubbing his face with his hand, he propped himself up on an elbow.  A prince should not have to bother with seeking his companion.  She should be in his bed, ready and willing. 

“Signe?”        

When there was no answer, Loki rolled out of bed with a huff.  Stretching languidly, he trekked to the bathroom.  There, he found her on her knees, one arm wrapped around her middle, pale and miserable.

Signe glanced up as he entered and smiled weakly.  He was unused to seeing her so… vulnerable.  Sexual vulnerability was one thing; he was accustomed to having her at the mercy in bed.  But as she moaned and leaned over the bowl, she seemed more akin to wounded animal.

Loki shifted his weight and frowned with uncertainty.  He extended his hand, paused with self-doubt, then tentatively brushed her sweaty hair from her face.  When he caught a glimpse of rich green stones around Signe’s neck he immediately felt guilty.  The squeeze of the tight collar around her neck couldn’t be comfortable.  With remorse he began to loosen the clasp, but to his surprise felt Signe pull his hand away and weave her fingers with his.

“Just loosen it?  Don’t take it off.”

Her prince’s cheeks flushed with emotion.  She _wanted_ to wear his necklace?  Even in the midst of sickness?  Loki turned his face, hiding his moment of sentimental weakness. 

“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, my Lord,” she said with a smile that quickly turned to a grimace as she leaned back over the pot.       

 Loki made to call a healer, but she brushed him off with the excuse that she consumed too much wine the night prior.  In truth, she’d had only a few sips, but she couldn’t have the castle staff revealing her situation to the prince. 

x

Signe arrived at the castle naïve in almost all things sexual.  The Prince taught her many, _many_ acts of pleasure, but not once during their _lessons_ had he expressed concern regarding pregnancy.  If conception didn’t faze the Prince, Signe found no reason for worry.  During her of several months at the palace she bled regularly, she supposed.  Signe wasn’t known for her attention to detail, and she kept no record of her monthlies.  

Her gut twisted, caused this time by uneasiness.  Not even her initial reunion with Loki made her this nervous. 

If there had been risk, wouldn’t Loki have taken action? 

Truly, it didn’t matter.  _It was already too late._   She had a little life growing inside her.     

It was well known throughout Asgard that any child fathered by Loki wasn’t allowed to come to term.  Signe hadn’t the faintest idea of Thor’s stance on the subject, but Loki was scrupulously opposed to siring offspring.  Signe sighed.  She imagined Loki feared both exposing his true parentage and fathering a “ _monster_.”  Lucky for herself, Loki, and their baby, she had spent her lifetime soothing Loki’s insecurities; this was nothing new.

When she could stand without dizziness, Signe called for servants to bathe and dress her.  Over the past week a routine developed between the woman and her staff.  Because Loki rose and left his rooms early, the maids were able to clandestinely tend to Signe when she was ill; ginger tea and cool cloths were most effective in easing the noblewoman’s discomfort.  Unbeknownst to Loki, Signe had been suffering from bouts of nausea for days.  But she couldn’t keep this from him anymore.

If Loki happened upon her like that again, he’d grow suspicious that she was keeping things from him.  She couldn’t jeopardize losing his trust.  He needed and deserved to know she was pregnant.  Her gut clenched when she thought of how he’d react.  She anticipated anger, ire, possibly malice. 

Signed treaded through the castle on her way to the solar, taking the longer route as to avoid the multitude of smells that wafted from the kitchens.  While serving her lunch, a servant had merely transported the scent of beef stew on her uniform and that alone had been enough to send Signe stumbling for the bathroom.  She knew Loki was conducting business of some sort with a Vana nobleman in the solar.  She expected they would finish soon. 

Going forward, Signe knew one thing: She was having this baby.  Her chest ached as she thought of _why_ this was so important to her, why _Loki_ was so important to her.  During the war, Loki was abandoned and left for dead as an infant.  She didn’t care whether he remembered it or not; being discarded as child is traumatic.  He was deprived a chance at love and family until Odin found and took him in, but the Aesir King couldn’t love Loki like he loved his biological son.  Though Frigga adored the two children equally, the lack of fatherly affection in a patriarchal society took a toll on Loki.

Signe was grateful she and Loki formed their friendship so early on.  She remembered feeling drawn to his intrinsic suffering, his pain, even as a young girl.  There was a resistance in him to vulnerability, which drew her to him.  Something in her, even at that age, needed to alleviate his torment.  He was _always_ guarded which made him seem cold and aloof, but she refused to believe his act.  Signe alone had broken through his walls by sheer determination and tenacity.  As an adult she now realized such qualities could often be interpreted as… annoying, perhaps, but if that’s what it takes to get through to Loki both then and now, so be it.    

She was going to love this baby the way Loki should’ve been loved from the moment he entered the world: relentlessly and unconditionally.  Even if he wouldn’t claim it, this baby was half Loki, and there wasn’t a soul alive that could force her to harm it.  She’d rather die than allow the life inside her to be _terminated._

As she neared the solar, Signe slowed her pace and inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders.  She held her ear to the door but didn’t hear voices, so she wrapped on the wooden panels with a knuckle, waited a moment, and entered.  Loki was indeed alone, though the mostly empty tea tray set for two proved the Vana lord had been there.

Loki gazed up at her from documents he was reviewing, one brow cocked in surprise at seeing Signe.

She cleared her throat.  “My lord,” her voice quavered.

Loki casually set down the piece of paper in his hand and turned towards her, his chair voicing objection as the feet dragged against the floor.  Disinterestedly he twirled a pen between his fingers, making it clear to her that she only had parts of his attention.

“Yes, my Lady?”

Signe was a fidgeter.  She always had been.  Mostly she did it without realization of her actions, but she could feel herself wringing her hands as she stood before her prince.

“I have a matter I would like to address.”

“And what, pray tell, is that matter?”

Signe licked her lips, her eyes darting to the window as she found herself incapable of maintaining eye contact with him.  When she spoke, it was with such rapidity that the Prince could hardly understand her.

“I’m… pregnant.  I know you’ve forbidden women from bearing your children, but I’ll return home immediately and the baby will stay a secret.  There’s a nobleman that has been insistently asking my father for my hand, despite knowing my… situation here.  I’ll write home at once and ask my father to go ahead with the engagement.  If I’m clever enough, he’ll never know the baby isn’t his.  He even has dark feat--.”

“Enough.”

 _No. Please, no._   She unconsciously took a step back and placed a protective palm on her abdomen. 

Until she realized she was pregnant, she had, without a single word of complaint, endured Loki’s temper and moods.  To the best of her ability she satisfied him sexually.  However, this new life inside her belly superseded all of that, and the fierce need to protect it was startling, but nonetheless powerful. 

She loved the Prince dearly; in this moment in time she could bring herself to admit it.  She had sacrificed everything, including herself, for his happiness.  But her priorities had just been forced to shift drastically.  It pained her to choose between her unborn child and her dearest friend.  She knew he had no one else, and leaving him again would likely break him beyond repair, a thought that tore her heart in two.  But that the baby’s father was _Loki_ , her dear, _dear_ Loki, made the new life inside her even more precious and her need to guard it even stronger.

She realized Loki hadn’t said a word.  At first glance, hi face appeared devoid of emotion.  But she knew him better than that.  Expressionless Loki was even more frightening than enraged Loki.

He considered her for a moment, then fortuitously collected and shuffled the papers before him.  He set his pen on the table so it lay perfectly parallel with the paper stack.  Eyes flicking back to her, he steepled his fingers against his lips. 

After an agonizingly long silence, he picked nonexistent lint from his trousers and rose from his chair.

“Is that all?”

Dumbly, Signe nodded.

Without another word, Loki brushed past her and exited the room, accenting his departure with a slam of the door that echoed through the castle walls.

Signe’s stomach rolled and she held her hand to her mouth to keep her body from rejecting what little remained in her tummy.  She staggered into Loki’s vacant chair as a dizzy spell hit.  It wasn’t until she was fairly certain she could open her mouth without expelling anything that she called for a maid to bring her some tea to settle her nausea. 

A young servant arrived with a tea tray and Signe took the cup gratefully.  Just as the girl was leaving, she patted her apron pockets, searching for something.

“His highness asked that I give this to you,” she said, handing Signe a folded note with Loki’s insignia pressed into the wax seal.

Nodding in thanks, she unfolded the parchment with trembling fingers.  Once open, she smoothed the wrinkles from the parchment, Loki’s familiar, elegant script was revealed.

**_You will not take my child from me.  I told you once before to never mention marrying another.  This is your final warning.  You’ll not enjoy the consequences, Little Peach._ **

**_L_ **

x

Signe idly folded and unfolded the note, staring crestfallen out the window.  She winced as the thin sheet sliced her forefinger, causing a line of blood to well along the cut.  A red droplet splattered onto the page and Signe absent mindedly wiped her finger against her gown.  Her ears were ringing; all she could feel was her pulse pounding. 

She didn’t know where to go or what to do.  His message made no sense to her.  She was providing him with a way _out,_ an alternative to fatherhood and he chastised her for speaking of marriage?

 _“You will not take my child from me.”_  

Was he implying she’d be having his child?  Or was wishful thinking causing her to misinterpret his words?  And what of the rest of his message?  She vividly remembered his anger when she brought up marriage the night she moved into his quarters, the first night she spent with him, but what did he care now?  As she brushed her fingertips against the cool stones around her neck, all she could think was that this was just a game of possession to him.  Surely he’d rather she leave the palace and have the baby under the guise of marriage to another than stay with him?

She pressed her fingertips to her temples and applied just enough pressure to relieve the tension building.  All of this chaos combined with how tired she’d been feeling was overwhelming.  She rose and moved from the table to a larger chair by the fireplace and on the plush velvet cushion curled, very unladylike, with her knees to her chest.  Her dress would surely be wrinkled, if not ruined, but she couldn’t bring herself to care; she was just too tired.

Hours later, Signe woke shivering.  The roaring fire she’d fallen asleep next to was now mere ashes and coals, only several of which were still glowing with heat.  Her dress was a mess, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.  She needed to go to Loki.

Signe wrapped her arms around herself as she trudged to Loki’s rooms.  This was not going to be a comfortable meeting.  As she entered, she prepared herself for his anger, for sadness, for any other emotion he had in excess that he felt appropriate to take out on her.

Entering the bedroom, she halted in surprise when she saw the bed was pristinely made.  The canopy was still secured open with delicately tied silk ribbons, the multitude of down pillows in various corresponding hues of green were completely undisturbed against the headboard.

Signe slowly searched each of the other rooms in her prince’s chambers, with no luck.  Loki wasn’t there. 

For the first time since her arrival, Signe called for servants to ready her for sleep.  All nights prior, Loki had taken pleasure in disrobing and taking her to bed, especially because he quickly learned the best manners in which to exhaust her so that she was too tired to pull on a nightgown after their coupling, for which he was quite pleased with himself.

When she felt fingers grappling with the clasp of her necklace, Signe sloppily brushed them off, too tired to vocalize her protest.  Once in her night dress, she nodded aloofly, effectively dismissing the staff for the night.  After deliberating and agonizing, she decided to get into bed without waiting for Loki. 

Though the prince ran cold, the bed felt even more frigid without his body wrapped around hers.  Signe pulled the duvet up over her bare shoulders, keeping her firm grip on the fabric as she brought her fist beneath her chin.  Uneasily, she drifted off to sleep alone.

The next night, she found herself alone again.


	11. Devil's Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long ass chapter featuring a nature hike. More or less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abortion/termination is mentioned multiple times in this chapter.

_**The next day when Signe began roaming the castle in search of Loki, she found herself followed by two guards.** _ They accompanied her literally everywhere with the single exception of her bedroom.  She could barely coax the two young men to grunt their names at her, let alone ease them into conversation or inquire as to why they were suddenly latched onto her like magnets. 

When she attempted to take a walk through the courtyard, she was coldly stopped.  It was then she realized that Loki assigned the guards to keep her from leaving the grounds.  From then on, it was very difficult not to scowl continuously at her two uninvited shadows.

At first, she thought her prince had left the palace completely.  Her stomach fluttered each time she walked throughout the castle, her guards trailing resignedly behind her.  She kept expecting to walk into him, kept hoping to see him with every corner she turned. 

After several days of fruitless searching, she gave up.  She then spent most of her time in the library, losing herself completely in fictional tales.  She desperately wanted to pour over books having to do with children, but she didn’t know what Loki had told the guards about her condition, or if they would keep the information to themselves. 

Two of her handmaidens were privy to her predicament, and soon insisted she leave isolation and spend her time with them.  Signe loathed needlework, she would truly rather clean chamber pots, but she was fairly certain that if she attempted the latter she’d quickly be forced to stop.  So, she sat quietly with the other women, chatting mindlessly about arbitrary happenings about the castle while idly pressing her needle down through the fabric, then feeding it back through to complete each stitch.  Though needlepoint made her miserable, Signe did get some satisfaction watching her handmaidens flirt unabashedly with the guards, who made clear effort to remain aloof and unaffected.  Their blushing, however, gave them away.     

After a period of five days Signe began encountering Loki at the evening meal.  She was overwhelmed with relief, until he made it clear that he would not be conversing with her.  He also made a point to bring other women to dinner.  The only nights he would speak with Signe were the ones he had the audacity to actually sit next to her, situating himself between his discarded companion and his dining consort.  When he chose not to blatantly dismiss her, he would make conversation with Signe while brazenly groping the other woman next to him, making Signe’s chest tighten with anger and humiliation.

One night be boldly pulled Signe to him to nuzzle his nose against her necklace, which she had opted to continue wearing, despite the prince’s ongoing neglect.  His breath reeked of wine as he spoke—not whispered—in her ear for everyone within the vicinity to hear.

“Do you miss me, my little slut?  Do you miss taking me between your thighs each night?”

Signe refused to meet his eyes did her best to ignore him, but when she did, he hooked his finger beneath the collar and brutishly pulled her to him.

“Answer me, little peach,” he hissed.  The prince made it clear that he would not be releasing her until she answered.

“Yes, my lord,” she assented, spoking in a slightly elevated volume so that all could hear.  She didn’t want Loki forcing her to repeat herself.

“Good,” he sneered, pushing her away with enough force that she stumbled. 

Signe managed to steady herself by gripping the back of a chair, but she was still stunned.  She stood and with shaking hands smoothed her skirts and tucked an errant curl back to her styled hair.

Needless to say, Loki never returned to his rooms.  Signe hardly slept, even her maids commented on the darkness beneath her eyes.  Signe assured them it was nothing, but that was wildly untrue.  She woke at the faintest noise, her hands trembling and her chest tight as her eyes flitted around the dark room looking for Loki.  What if he’d come to take her away?  To take her baby away?  Or to hurt her?  She was ashamed for being so suspicious, but she couldn’t help but worry.   

During their morning routine that began with her almost daily bouts of nausea, the servants began trying to conceal the purple smudges beneath her eyes with powder.  To their heartache, Signe’s periodic tears tended to wash the makeup away.

After living glumly for two weeks, Signe came to the conclusion that she needed to act.  She was already six weeks pregnant, and if she desired to keep the baby a secret, she was running out of time to start her engagement.  She was also growing concerned for the safety of her baby.  Loki was behaving erratically, and she didn’t trust him not to try and terminate the life of her child.  She needed to leave the castle.

In the privacy of Loki’s quarters Signe wrote home, apologizing for her rashness and pleading for forgiveness.  He parents were relieved to hear from their youngest, and elated when she requested her father move forward with marriage arrangements to the persistent Lord Neergaard, who had been pursuing her hand for several years.  Though the man was significantly older than Signe, he had fair skin, and when he was younger his hair had been dark, like Loki’s.  She prayed she could pass her child off as his.

When it came time to leave, Signe’s guards remained steadfastly posted at her door while she slept, so she was forced to exit the castle through the servants’ tunnels.  Her traveling caravan was no more; her convoy consisted of herself and two handmaidens.  She knew it was foolish to travel without a man in their group, but she couldn’t take that risk.

The three women left in the early hours of the morning, while the sky was still pitch black, through the servant’s entrance, dressed in simple frocks and cloaks and each with only a single satchel of belongings.   One of the two maidens was familiar enough with horses that she tacked up three, and soon they were on their way. 

Every animal call, breaking of a stick, and crunch of dry leaves made all three women jump.  Signe kept turning in her saddle to ensure they weren’t being followed.  Leaving the castle without sleep was exhausting enough, but being on high alert constantly was even more draining.

As dawn broke, Signe agonized whether or not to travel during daylight.  She wanted to get home—and away from Loki—as quickly as possible, but she decided she couldn’t risk being seen.  She didn’t want word getting to the palace or her fiancé that she had been sighted traveling.

Moving only at night, the two-day ride stretched to over four.  It was midday, and all three women were sleeping safely off the road when rapid hoof beats woke Signe.  Her mouth went so dry she could barely swallow, she suddenly felt ill when in the distance she saw a dark haired rider clad in green armor thundering over the dirt road.  As he rode closer, she could see his horse was foaming at the mouth, and there were patches of fur dark with sweat.  It looked like Loki had been running him for miles.

Though she hated to admit it, Signe was genuinely concerned for the safety of the other women.  Loki hadn’t hurt her badly, but he had been physical with her, even if it was mostly during sex.  And even if she had mostly enjoyed it.  If Loki was as incensed as she anticipated, her handmaidens may not be safe in his presence. 

Moving slowly to keep nausea at bay, Signe woke her two companions, holding a finger to her lips to keep them quiet.  They were only a mile from her parents’ lands and she was confident the two women could make it on their own.  She instructed them to ride on to her home, warning them to stay off the path until Loki was no longer in sight behind them.  The flustered women argued, but Signe shook her head, swallowing hard in an attempt to lubricate her still dry throat.  As she packed up the women’s things, she snapped that there was no time to argue.  Considering Signe’s tone, her handmaidens knew better than to argue and reluctantly mounted and disappeared through the trees.

Shakily, Signe inhaled and packed her bedroll with unsteady hands.  Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she shoved her left foot in the stirrup and slung her right leg over the saddle before tentatively nudging the animal forward and out onto the road. 

She emerged from the shaded area with a hand blocking the sun as she squinted at the .  Once he spotted her, Loki’s face went through the motions: Surprise, then anger, then angrier anger.  Signe raised her chin defiantly and turned her horse.  With a haughty flick of her hair they began trotting, leaving Loki literally her dust.

Before she realized what was happening, Loki pulled his horse up beside hers, leaned forward and snatched the reins from her hands and began walking both horses in the direction of the castle.  Irate, she glared at him until she felt the muscles in eyes her straining.  With an exasperated groan she threw her hands in the air and dismounted before Loki could gain any speed.  She turned towards home and began stomping down the road before she _heard_ Loki’s reaction.

_The asshole was laughing._

“My darling little peach, where do you think you’re going?”

She ignored him.  And it felt good.  Until she heard him gaining speed, his horse sprinting until both the beast and his rider stopped abruptly in front of her, effectively blocking her way.

“Let me through,” she snapped.

Loki considered her for a moment and she stared right back.  His height was intimidating in general, but mounted on a nineteen hand horse, he was even more imposing.  

“No, dear one, we’re going home,” he explained, cooing as if speaking to a child in a tone that epitomized patronizing.  The prince offered her his hand.

Signed stared at him for a beat before briskly walking around his horse’s rear and continuing on her way.

With a growl Loki dismounted and grabbed Signe by the arm, gathering her wrists in one hand.  He lugged her towards his horse, causing her to stumble.

“Loki, let me _go_!”

“Darling peach, you’re not in your right mind.  Come, I’ll take care of you.”  He sounded sincere, but there was a malicious glint in his eye.

“You’ll take care of me?  By putting me on display before the entire court with your brand around my neck?  Humiliating me in front of your mother?  When she saw the bruises you left after our first night together she asked if you had _forced_ me, my lord.”

Loki was completely unfazed.  If anything, he was encouraged.

“And _did_ I force you, my peach?  When you were writhing beneath me like a wonton little slut?  Do you even know how easy it is to make you come for me?”

Signe swallowed hard, eyes flicking back and forth between his.  The way he was looking at her was dangerous.  Not necessarily in terms of safety, but in terms of dignity.  She ignored the tug low in her belly before jerkily shaking her head once to the right, then once to the left.  She couldn’t muster a verbal response.

“And now that you’ve left the palace, you continue to wear my _brand_ , as you so eloquently called it.  Were you going to bother taking it off before reuniting with your parents?  Or did you want them to know you were someone else’s property?  I knew you liked being mine.  Do you know how much I love having my collar around your neck, little peach?  Every time I see it on you makes me hard as a rock.”

Signe balked.  She couldn’t believe the crude, misogynistic words he was spewing at her.  Or the effect they were having on her.  His speech was, admittedly, making her so wet that as she rubbed her thighs together involuntarily, she could feel her lips slip against each other from the wetness he’d inspired, but that was beside the point.

As her face heated and thinking became difficult, she tried to wrench her wrists free.  Being in such close proximity with the prince was becoming incredibly dangerous. 

Loki let her go and busied himself tethering their horses.  Signe was shocked, but not too surprised to begin running in the direction of her home. 

The prince casually tugged on each set of reigns he’d looped around a nearby tree and, once satisfied, turned towards the fleeing woman.  With a snap of his fingers, Signe’s arms were bound to her sides.  She lost her balance and toppled to the ground, her shoulder kicking up a small cloud of dust as she landed with a grunt.

“Let me go,” she hissed through clenched teeth.  As fun as this cat and mouse game was, she was growing concerned about the baby and Loki’s intentions.  Did he chase her all this way to ensure she returned home without his child?  Could he end her pregnancy with magic?  

Loki ignored her and instead picked Signe up, hoisting her until her waist bent and she was forced face-first over his shoulder.  He secured an arm over her legs as he walked off the road, plopping her down on the grass.

“Darling, if you run again, I’ll keep you bound _and_ magic away your clothes.”

Signe pursed her lips, glowered, and sat still.  She was still sore from her fall and she wouldn’t risk tumbling again.  
           

“There’s a good girl,” Loki crooned, stroking a thumb along her jaw.

She searched his face for any indication of his intentions, but found none.  He was simply watching her with an increasingly intense expression of want on his face.

“Loki,” she implored.

“Yes, dearest?” He spoke as if she weren’t bound and sitting on the ground.

“Why did you follow me?”

He stayed silent.  She fought to breathe evenly as her stomach rolled.=

“Are you going to hurt my baby?”  Her question was whispered, as if she couldn’t bear to speak the thought aloud.

Loki’s expression was unreadable, or at least not one that Signe recognized.

With a wave of his hand, Signe’s bonds disappeared.  Still intimidated by this threat to vanish her clothes, she stayed put.  Loki motioned casually at the ground, and Signe’s cloak was no longer on her person and, instead, lay spread out on the grass.  Loki pointed at it and motioned to her.

“Lay down.”

Loki’s expression was simply expectant.  There was no doubt in his mind that Signe was going to comply.  His casual air was beginning to frighten her.    

Signe got to her knees, but then hesitated.  She realized he never answered her question.

“Please, Loki.”

Loki considered her once more, not a lick of sympathy on his beautifully sculpted face.  In a blink, Signe’s clothes were gone.  She gasped and covered herself indignantly, rose, and tromped over to her spread cloak and lay down.  She propped herself up on one elbow, watching him as she wrapped her other arm protectively around her middle.  She otherwise left herself completely exposed.

Loki sank to his knees next to her, his green and black armor dissolving into linen trousers and a simple shirt.  He peered down Signe, his brows furrowed in genuine confusion.

“Please what?”

Signe searched his face, desperate for even the smallest clue as to how he was feeling, but his brows were relaxed, his eyes were calm and the corners of his mouth seemed to be twitching into a small smile.

“Don’t hurt my baby,” she begged, her voice cracking.

Loki’s expression changed only in that his brows furrowed.  He was perplexed, his eyes moving back and forth between Signe’s face and the small bump she was trying to protect.

When Loki pulled her arm away, Signe whimpered, but allowed him.  She was strong, but Loki was a warrior.  Tears slipped down her cheeks and she lay back, hoping that whatever method he used to terminate their child caused as little suffering as possible.

She started to close her eyes, but the anticipation made it worse.  She needed to know when whatever he planned to do was coming.  Her eyes were fluttering open when her entire body jolted, she felt his cool lips against her belly.  She tilted her head up, peering at him from her supine position.  Her breath left her lungs.  Loki was staring intently at her belly, delicately tracing his finger along the raised portion.  He paid the woman herself no mind, seemingly entranced with her lower abdomen.  Again, his lips pressed against her skin and with a shiver she felt goosebumps raise all over her body.

“Loki?”

He grunted, his preoccupation preventing him from responding.  His childlike fascination with her tiny baby bump was, perhaps, the single dearest moment she’d ever witnessed. 

She reached for him, her hand still shaking with adrenaline, and gently brushed his hair from his face.

When he looked up, she froze.  Loki’s face went from peaceful to feral in less than a second.  He ripped her hand from his hair and grabbed her wrist painfully.

Signe whimpered his name, ashamed that she’d allowed herself to be fooled into thinking he’d let her go unscathed.  Loki didn’t respond aside from catching her other wrist and pinning both hands above her head. 

“You left,” he hissed.

Signe’s eyes were wide, an errant tear dribbling down her cheek and into her hair.

Both of their breaths were coming quickly.  She didn’t even know why he was angry.  How did things go wrong so quickly?

All of a sudden, Loki’s entire weight rested in Signe’s body.  Somehow he’d managed to wedge himself between her thighs, which were now conveniently splayed open.

His eyes were practically murderous.  She struggled pointlessly but when he gave a bruising squeeze to her slender wrists, she stilled.

“You. Are. _Mine._ ”  His words were muttered, but their message was clear, distinctly echoed by his actions as he ran a finger along the collar she still wore.

“Mine,” he repeated, this time softer than the first.  His eyes cleared briefly, becoming less feral and more… lucid.  He dragged his free hand away from her collar, down her neck, over her breast, and to her lower tummy.

“This is mine,” he husked.

Did he mean what she thought he meant?  He wasn’t going to hurt her?  Was he actually claiming the baby?  Tears of relief—confusion—possibly both trickled freely down her face. 

She didn’t trust her voice to speak more than one word.  It was rough and gravely with emotion, but it was clear enough to Loki to understand.

"Yours.”

Releasing her wrists, perhaps not intentionally, but simply because he had use for his hands and didn’t realize he was letting her go, he slid his hand beneath her head and attacked her mouth with his.  The animal was back, but at least this time his intentions were abundantly explicit as he plundered her mouth.

Signe responded by clutching his shoulders, one hand holding on for stability, the other tearing at his shirt.  Briefly, Loki lifted his torso from hers to peel the offending article from his body.  Though her nails were practically manicured and short, she felt them dig in to his skin, creating ten little half-moon shapes as she grabbed at him.

The second she felt his tongue trying to breach the seam of her mouth, she opened obediently for his him.  He kissed her as if he were laying a claim, pressing his mouth so hard against own that her lips would be bruised and swollen.                                                             

When Signe hitched one of her legs over his, he rudely pushed her off only to tear at the laces of his trousers.  His cock sprang free immediately, deliciously hard and leaking precome.  Immediately he grabbed her thigh and hiked her leg back up over his hip, and reluctantly removed his hand from her belly to grip his cock, which he dragged lazily between her slick folds, coating himself in her wetness. 

When he rubbed the head of his cock against her clit, Signe surprised him by surging up and reattaching her mouth to his, giving a rough nip to his lower lip.  He chuckled against her mouth when he tasted the tang of copper.

Bending her other leg at the knee and planting her foot on the ground, Signe impatiently canted her hips up against his, desperately trying to impale herself on his cock.

Loki lost awareness of his actions when he felt her rutting against him, and the next thing he knew he was sheathed to the hilt in her tight heat, groaning in satisfaction against her mouth.

Signe gasped against his lips, pulling away, desperate for air, and buried her face against his neck as he began to thrust with a brutal rhythm.  Loki’s hips pistoned into her, the muscles of his rear clenching with each downward thrust.

Neither lasted long.  Though Loki had scratched his itch with other women, nothing compared to losing himself in Signe’s tight little hole.  The way her velvety walls hugged him, fluttered around his cock as if they were trying to keep him from withdrawing from her, was beyond compare.  Loki, who normally had admirable vocal control when they fucked, gasped and grunted with each stroke, complementing Signe’s higher pitched pants and cries. 

Loki was too close to rely on Signe to come on her own time.  He slipped a hand between them, his thumb searching for her swollen little pearl of a clit and circling it mercilessly.  Almost immediately Signe came, her cunt clenching and pulsing around Loki’s cock.  Unlike their previous couplings, Loki kept firmly circling her clit, stopping only rewet the pad of his thumb with the slickness between her legs.                                                                                  

Signe shrieked in protest as he continued, completely overloaded by sensitivity as he tormented her clit.  When thinking back, she had no idea at what point pain turned to pleasure as he forced her to come yet again, this time gushing all over his shaft.  Her own hips stuttered against his as her second orgasm hit, sparking him to fuck right her back into the ground.  He came with a shout before he bit down _hard_ on the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

They both lay sprawled, chests heaving, completely boneless.  Loki’s forehead came to rest against her collar, and she contentedly played with the hair at the nape of his neck.  Breathing was slightly difficult, but feeling his weight over her body was completely worth it.

Eventually, Loki rolled to the side, and unprecedentedly slipped his arm beneath her neck and pulled her to him. 

Once they caught their breath, Loki spoke first.

“We have to talk about the baby.”

She turned to her side, chest tightening at his tone.

His voice was suddenly grave.  “There’s something I need to tell you.  About my parentage.”

Once she realized what he meant, Signe pushed herself up onto an elbow and smiled, running a hand affectionately through his now messy hair.

“I know,” she murmured, giving him a reassuring kiss to the cheek.

“You know what?” Loki was genuinely confused, his brow furrowing yet again.

Later, she’d blame her sex addled brain for the slip.

“That you’re part Frost Giant,” she crooned, curling herself against him as her sweaty body began to cool.

Loki stiffened.  She was fairly positive it was unintentional, but in response to her words the hand holding her leapt to her arm in a bruising grasp, making her whimper.  She tried to pull away, looking at him in confusion.

Once she made eye contact with him, she realized the shocked expression on Loki’s face screamed betrayal.  It was a mixture of pain and pure rage.

 _Oh, no_.  _No, no, no._ He didn’t know that Frigga told Signe of his parentage when they were young. 

“Loki—.”

“What do you mean _you_ know?  For how long?” 

Never had she seen him this angry.  Not even when she told him she was pregnant.

“When we were young, whenever you became really upset your eyes would turn golden and your lips would turn blue!  I was worried, and I went to the Queen and she assured me you were all right, that you were part Frost Giant,” she said, trying to soothe him. 

Laughing cruelly, he abruptly shoved her away from him.

“You knew before I did.” 

He was spinning completely out of control.  Her heart was pounding as she racked her brain for some way to break his train of thought. 

“Do you know what it was like to find out you’re a monster, little girl?  And to find out alone?  I never imagined anything could feel worse than your leaving.  But then Odin told me of _my heritage_.  That almost destroyed me.  And where were you?  Playing noblewoman with your mewling sisters?  You fucking cun—.”

A slap echoed between the trees.  Loki’s jaw fell open in shock and he sputtered wordlessly.

Signe rose primly.

“Return my clothes to me _now_.”

Loki began to retort with another foul accusation when she slapped him once more.

“Not a word,” she growled.  “Return.  My.  Clothes.”

Loki was still stunned, so Signe dramatically cleared her throat, prompting him to finally redress her magically.

She angrily tugged her cloak from under him until he got the message and rolled off.  She wrapped it around her shoulders and returned to the main path.

By the time Loki came out of his shock, dressed and wandered to the road, both Signe and her horse were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would seriously, genuinely, really love some feedback, on this chapter especially. Truth be told, this is the second piece of fiction I've ever written, and I'm desperate for constructive criticism. Even if it's a flame, it's better than nothing! Please and thank you, and thank you to anyone that has read this far, commented and kudo'ed!


	12. Dog Astray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gallivanting about and choking on wine.

_**Signe’s smile when reuniting with her family was forced.**_   Her temples throbbed and her stomach had been clenched ever since she left Loki on the roadside.  Genuinely, she was glad to see her parents and sisters; of that there was no doubt.  But to have such an extreme reconciliation with her prince, only to have it shattered into shards of what were once love and trust was agonizing.

After tearful hugs and kisses, Signe begged forgiveness from her family but explained that she had to lay down, that traveling had taken everything out of her.  In reality, she couldn’t tear her mind away from what had happened a mile away, and her thoughts were so loud she couldn’t concentrate with her sisters laughing and joking everyone wanting to know how Prince Loki was.

After they drew her a bath, Signe shooed her maids out the door and bathed and dressed herself to the best of her ability.  She knew none of the women would intentionally jeopardize her secret, but she couldn’t risk someone opening their mouth.  Once she was dry, she had selected a rich gold gown with open sleeves and a deep neckline that she was able to put on herself.  She prayed her extra cleavage was enough to distract from her minimally swollen tummy.  She left her long, flaxen hair down, allowing it to dry properly as she relaxed in her sitting room.

Signe was happily lost in her book when a servant rapped on her door.  Begrudgingly she marked the page on which she left off, smoothed her palms over her skirts and checked her hair in the mirror before opening the door. 

“Your presence has been requested for dinner, my lady.”

Signe thanked the maid and dismissed her, slipping back into her shoes and straightening the emerald collar that remained snug on her neck.  She couldn’t bear to take it off.  Not yet.

As she strolled to the Great Hall, she apathetically ran her hand along the cool stone wall of her parents’ home as she thought, dipping her fingers into each narrow crevice between bricks.  _So_ much had passed over the last few days.  She had run away from him, been caught by him, terrified by him, and then seduced by him.  Signe couldn’t remember a time she’d been happier than that morning, and her eyes stung with tears as she thought about the opportunity lost.

Absentmindedly she rubbed her belly.  Her baby and her necklace were the last two reminders of Loki she had.  She wanted the baby to have something of his or her father’s, and she’d treasure the collar until it was time to pass it on to her child, even if they didn’t realize how special it was.

It hurt her heart that her baby would never meet its real father.  She _knew_ intrinsically that Loki would’ve been wonderful.  She knew he doubted himself, but she had complete and utter faith in him.  Parenting with him wouldn’t have been easy, she mused sadly, but she knew they would’ve been successful… If they’d had the chance.

Signe cleared her throat and shook her head, trying to shake herself out of such a depressing train of thought.  When she finally arrived at the dining room, her stomach fluttered with excitement.  Upon her announcement of her journey home, her parents invited her betrothed to celebrate their engagement.  Lord Neergaard sent his acceptance immediately and was due to eat the evening meal with Signe and her family.

Signe hadn’t seen the man in years, but she remembered him being handsome enough.  Tall, fair, with dark but greying hair and an expressive face.  Passing through the set of tall, ornately carved double doors, Signe entered the dining room.  Her eyes immediately searched out her betrothed, and she was rewarded with a kind smile.  She returned the friendly gesture and made her way to the table, taking a seat next to him.  Though slightly awkward at first, conversation eventually began to flow throughout the table and Signe was able to relax.

Dinner was interrupted by one of her father’s men bursting suddenly into the hall and clearing his throat.  His eyes flicked back and forth between the noble family sitting at the table and whomever stood beside him in the corridor.  The poor man appeared pale and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow.  Signe craned her neck, curious as to who could cause such such a typically unflappable man to quake.

“His highness, Prince Loki,” the man announced, bowing deeply as Loki strode into the room.

Signe’s mother gasped and immediately stood and curtsied, the rest of the table following in suit, with the exception of Signe herself, who stood there with her mouth hanging wide open. 

“My lord, what an honor!”  Signe’s father was genuine, but perplexed when he spoke.  His booming voice thankfully snapped Signe out of her confusion and she curtsied daintily while simultaneously glaring the prince.

Loki smiled.  His expression wasn’t exactly devious, but there was something in his eyes that put Signe on edge.  That familiar

“My friends, it has been too long,” Loki declared, his eyes locked on Signe.

Immediately her family invited him to their table, calling servants to set a place for him at once.  It just so happened that the place setting was assembled across the table from Signe.

Signe warily watched Loki approach as he greeted each of her family members by name, commenting on memories from years prior and asking them engaging questions.

Finally, he greeted Signe.

“Hello, Little Peach,” he crooned.

Much to Signe’s dismay, she felt her cheeks blooming with color.  After a large gulp of wine, she bowed her head respectfully.

“It’s good to see you again so soon, my prince.”

“Indeed it is,” Loki agreed. 

In front of her family, in front of her betrothed, Loki blatantly raked his eyes down Signe’s body, spending longest openly admiring her breasts and tummy.  When his gaze finally returned to her eyes, there was a glint of mischief. 

“My, what a dazzling necklace you’re wearing, my lady!  Wherever did you find it?”

Signe choked on her wine, her hand reflexively flying to her neck.

“Thank you, my prince,” Signe managed to gasp between coughs. 

Wrought with concern, Lord Neergaard sympathetically patted her back.

“And I’m not sure where it’s from, my lord.  It was a gift,” she explained, though he already knew the answer.

When Lord Neegraard put his hand on her, Loki’s eyes immediately narrowed menacingly.  She could see the insult forming in his mouth, and she knew she had to act before his words poisoned their engagement.  So, she kicked him from under the table.

Loki’s eyes widened and for a moment he was too shocked to react, but then he couldn’t help but snicker into his hand. 

Signe sighed.  This meal already felt eternal.

After his initial greeting, Loki all but ignored the rest of her family, save for snippets of polite conversation.  Most of his evening was spent staring at Signe. 

As was customary when hosting royalty—expected or not—, Signe’s father invited Loki to spend the night.  Loki, of course, accepted his most gracious offer.  When Signe saw Loki and her father talking, she used the opportunity to flee.  Coyly she took Lord Neergaard’s hand and led him to the drawing room.  The older lord was completely smitten with her and followed without protest.  Signe and her lord spoke quietly to each other for an hour, simply getting to know one another.  It was overall an innocent affair, though as they parted for the night, her betrothed placed a chaste kiss against her lips.  Signe’s blush deepened as she wished him goodnight before returning to her rooms.

As was his fashion, Loki was skulking around her chambers when Signe returned, as he had been on her first night at the castle.

 Just looking at him made her wilt; she was so tired.  Tired of whatever game he was playing that he could be verbally assaulting her one moment, when not one minute before he was holding her in his arms.

“Loki,” she sighed, her eyes downcast.

There was a long, dramatic pause.  Curiously, she looked up, only to see the silver tongued prince’s jaw moving, but with no verbal payoff.  He struggled to speak.

“I…,” he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

I’m sorry.”

Signe smiled sadly.

“I know, Loki.”

 Loki’s body language changed completely.  He stood tall, chin lifted triumphantly.

“So you’ll return to the palace with me?”

“Loki, you need to leave.  It’s no longer appropriate for you to be alone with me,” she spoke softly, unable to meet his eyes.

In her periphery, she could see Loki’s shoulders slump, which made her bite her lip in an effort not to cry.

 “You should leave in the morning, my lord.  I’ll summon a servant to show you to your rooms.”  She had hoped using a more formal title with him would make her feel less vulnerable.  It didn’t.

Loki encroached upon her space quickly and quietly.

“Why won’t you look me in the eye?”

“Please Loki,” she whimpered, unable to stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks.

In two strides Loki was before her, cupping her face and tilting her chin so her eyes met his.

“Why are you crying, my peach?”

Signe could only manage to shake her head, though she was unwilling to wrench herself form his grasp.  Instead, she lay her hand over his, holding his palm against her cheek as tears continued to spill, hotly rolling over their fingers.        

“I love you, Loki,” she said with a watery smile.  “Now, get out.”

Signe forced herself to open her eyes, which had slipped closed when Loki had held her face.  She pulled herself form his grasp and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.  She could no longer look Loki in the eye; if she did she knew she wouldn’t be able to make him leave.  Quickly Signe treaded to the door and held it open for him.  Loki watched her for a moment before slowly striding to the girl.  She could feel the weight of his gaze on her.

Loki stood much too close, with his feet spread on either side of hers, pressing her against the wall with a thrust of his hips.  She could see his jaw clenching.

“I’m not leaving here without you, Signe.”

Signe turned her face to the side, refusing to meet his eyes.

Loki used the opportunity to invade her space even further; he pressed teasing, feather-light kisses along her cheek and jaw, then wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him

“You’re _both_ still mine,” he growled.

Signe shuddered and closed her eyes, biting her tongue in an attempt to remain composed.  She couldn’t respond.  Loki thrived on attention, and if she spoke he’d never leave.  So, she ignored him, despite the conflicting tears in her eyes and throbbing between her legs.

Signe exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as the prince left her room.  She leaned back against the cool stone of the wall behind her and scrubbed her face with her hands.  Why did he have to make this harder?

x

Loki stood outside Lord Neergaard’s door, rolling and flipping a coin between his four fingers nervously.  Very few things made him nervous.  He loathed being nervous.  Ignoring the knot in his stomach, he pocketed the coin and rapped on the door.

He could hear the lord stumbling about, and when he pulled the door open his eyes were bleary with sleep.  Loki had woken him.  This made the prince grin internally.  Heh.  Sorry, not sorry.

“Lord Neergaard, perhaps could you spare a moment of your time?  I have a matter I’d like to discuss.”

The older man blinked slowly as his brain whirred awake, self-consciously smoothing his sleep-mussed hair.  One doesn’t really say no to a prince of Asgard, regardless of the obscenity of the hour.

“Uh.. of course, your highness, er, please, come in.”  Neergaard’s normal eloquence seemed to have taken a small vacation, which wasn’t unfair considering the circumstances.

“Um, please, sit.”  The lord motioned to two chairs next to a dying fire.

The prince chose a chair and seated himself silently.  It gave him pleasure to know he was making the other man squirm.

“What can I do for you, my prince?”

Loki smiled and crossed his ankles.

“You will not marry Lady Signe.”

“Oh, but your highness, we’re already engaged, I’m afraid.  A day has been set,” explained the confused lord.

This time the prince turned to face Neergaard and delicately folded his hands in his lap.

“My lord, tomorrow, you shall leave and return home.  The lady is _mine_ , as is the child that grows inside her.”

The expression on Loki’s face was one that implied its owner would not hesitate to commit murder if it meant defending and claiming his family.

Now that he was more awake, Neergaard was able to process the prince’s words.  The older man’s eyes widened and his brows rose before his mouth twitched into a smile. All of a sudden, the sadness Neergaard noticed in Signe’s eyes, though she tried to hide it well, made sense; she was in love with Loki.

The lord’s expression and reaction were genuine.  Truthfully, he would’ve preferred not to have been involved in the situation at all, but he had been fond of Signe for many years and though he was disappointed that she wouldn’t be his, it appeared as if the prince sincerely treasured her.

“I understand, my prince.  I wish you two all the happiness in the world.”

In a rare instance, Loki smiled in relief.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Loki stood and began walking for the door, but turned, swiveling on the ball of his foot.

“Ah, I have one more request, my lord.”  And by request, he meant order.

“Yes, your highness?”

“You will hold no ill will against the lady’s family, nor will you speak of her condition to anyone.”

“Very well,” replied the lord. 

With that, Loki left, and despite the ungodly hour, went in search of Signe once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll make up for lack of smut in the next chapter, pinky promise.


	13. Just Can't Deny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Necessary evils folloewed by some good, old fashioned fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you EVERYONE for reading and for your comments and kudos, they really, really do brighten not awesome days for me. :)

_**Not bothering to knock on Signe’s door, Loki turned the door handle until the click of the latch let it swing open.** _ At first he didn’t notice her.  It wasn’t until he heard the deep breathing of sleep that he glanced near the hearth.  Her eyes were still swollen from crying.  He knew he was very much at fault, for which he felt a pang of guilt.   He had just been so _angry_.  He’d felt betrayed.  As the conversation from the morning earlier started slithering back into his mind, he saw red, until Signe disrupted him with a soft noise in her sleep.

He forced himself to think of the woman in front of him, and not his rage.  Signe was more important.

Deciding to put her to bed, he plucked her up with an arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back.  Unable to help himself, he glanced down.  Her cleavage was especially becoming today; were her breasts larger already?

Another quiet groan brought his attention to her face as Signe’s eyes cracked open.  When she looked up and saw Loki the sleepy, content expression on her face changed into one of anger and sadness.  She squirmed, trying to wrench herself free of his grip.

“Loki, stop!”

Loki grit his teeth to force himself not to blatantly ignore her and then released her legs.  He did not, however, allow her free of the grip he had around her middle.  Instead, he held her to him, forcing her body to slide crudely against as he slowly let her to her feet, looking at her expectantly.

“Stop what?”

“Let go of me,” she growled through clenched teeth, pushing roughly at his chest.

Loki grinned.

“Not until we’ve spoken.”

She tried to struggle free, but Loki easily overpowered her.

She was beginning to break.  Between the exhaustion, the hormones, being under the same roof as her fiancé and her… what, lover?  She was no longer his companion.  She didn’t even know what to call him, but whatever he was to her, he was much too close.  It was all too much.

She reluctantly relaxed in his arms, keeping her hands fisted at her sides to prevent herself from twining her wrists together behind his neck, which she very much wanted to do.  When she spoke, her head was bowed and her eyes glued to the floor.

“Loki, you have to let me go.  You need to go home.  This is just going to hurt both of us.  And the stress could hurt the baby.”  Her voice stayed strong until her last sentence.  Especially after Loki’s enraged outburst, she felt even more protective of her child.  For Loki to have lashed out as he did when he realized she knew about being Jotunn meant that Loki was even more damaged than she’d realized.  She couldn’t process with Loki in such proximity, couldn’t make good choices when he was touching her.

 “You’re not marrying him.”

“Oh for Norn’s sake! Loki get out!”

Signe pushed Loki’s hands away from her and stomped over to her bed, perching on the edge of the mattress with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands.

In an attempt to reassure (and corral) her, Loki closed the distance between them and knelt between her legs.  This, of course, required him to push her skirt high enough on her thighs in order properly situate himself.

When she felt his hands on her, Signe snapped.  She wound up, ready to slap the prince a third time, only to find her wrist rudely halted mid-swing. 

It took every bit of concentration Loki had not to handle her too roughly, because goodness knows he was angry too.  But truly he had no desire to hurt her.  Before she could strike again, Loki captured her other wrist and managed to haul her up and back onto the bed, forcing her on her back.  He conveniently nestled himself between her parted thighs, leaning over her with her wrists firmly pinned to the bed.

“You’re going to list—.”

“I will do no such thing!”

“ _You’re going to listen to me or I’ll gag you.”_

As he expected, Signe went quiet, but the anger he prevented from spewing out her mouth now came through her intense glare.

“There we are,” he crooned, affectionately stroking her brow.  “Now, you’ll stay quiet until I say so, or I won’t hesitate to silence you, and you know I mean it,” he warned.

Signe nodded once in affirmation.

“All right then.  I just met with Neergaard and explained our situation.”

Signe’s eyes widened in horror.

“Now, now.  He was very understanding.  He’s returning home tomorrow—.”

“I can’t beli—.”

With a wave of his hand, Loki promptly muffled Signe’s exasperation with a conjured cloth gag.  He could’ve summoned a pair of her panties to quiet her instead, but he was still feeling sympathetic for going off on her.

“Silly little peach.  As I was saying, he will return home tomorrow.  He swore secrecy to me.  No one will know why you’re not marrying him.”

Loki licked his lips and continued.

“You are _mine_ , Signe.  You _know_ you’re mine.  I imagine it’s something you’ve always known.  I… apologize for reacting the way I did yesterday.  Hearing such things came as… a shock, to say the least.  My anger was misplaced.  If I should be mad at anyone, it’s Frigga.”

Signe’s brows furrowed in disagreement and she shook her head.

“I know, I know.  She was simply looking out for me.  But you can see how it pained me to learn that she first shared my true parentage with someone other than myself, yes?”

She hesitated before nodding curtly.

“Good girl.”

Signe’s managed growl through the cloth.  Her emotions were jumbled: disapproval mixed with irritation mixed with arousal.  Likely she was annoyed with herself for the throbbing response between her legs caused by the patronizing phrase uttered by Loki.  
            “Signe, let me preface this by saying I don’t want to use my magic on you for the purpose of force,  but seeing as I’m a less than reputable gentleman, and you willingly entered my bed knowing that, I’m sure you’ll understand as I do so anyway.”

She growled in frustration as he slid back down her body, his hands releasing her wrists only for her to find them fixed in place by an invisible force.  He enjoyed playing with her like this, engaging her mind and teasing her body at the same time.

“The day you left, do you remember it?  When we were young?”

The position Loki pinned Signe in didn’t allow her to look at him, so she simply made a noise of assent.

As he spoke his movements were slow and controlled.  Once again he pushed the skirt of her dress back up over her thighs, looking at her expectantly when he needed her to lift her rear in order for him to peel the fabric up past her waist.

With a very dramatic huff, she cooperated.  Loki continued to speak.

“I only remember bits and pieces.  You see, I stole a significant amount of wine from the kitchens that day.”

Loki paused, suddenly entranced by the goosebumps that rose on her thighs as he lightly traced his finger over her skin.

“What I _do_ remember is not wanting to exist any longer.  I felt so empty.  It’s not that I felt hollow… If I were hollow, I’d have been able to fill the emptiness with someone other than you.  Instead, it’s was as if everything had been vacuumed from inside me.”

Signe’s heart ached with sorrow.  She would have done anything in order to stay with him then.

“Despite all my rage, when you left me yesterday, the unbearable ache returned in full.  It _hurt_.”  He paused and a look of guilt flashed across his face.  “It made me want to hurt you in return.  So I came here, to ruin your engagement.”

 Signe whimpered softly around her gag, this was turning into one of the very few instances in which she was afraid of Loki.  She feared he would turn noxious, and considering the way he had her positions, she felt very, very exposed.

“Don’t fret, little peach,” he crooned, pressing her legs further apart so he could settle between them.

“In the middle of dinner, when you choked on your wine,” she could hear the amusement in his voice, “and _he_ put his hands on you…,” and then the enjoyment was gone, replaced instead with disdain.  “Suddenly I wanted to hurt _him_.  He was touching things that he had no right to be touching, things that were mine,” Loki hissed.

Growing truly alarmed, Signe wriggled beneath him, her stomach twisting in knots.

“Stop,” he snapped, holding her thighs still with bruising force.

When Signe defiantly tried to kick at him, he gave an exasperated sigh and surged up her body, keeping her legs in place with his weight as he caged her face with an arm on either side.

“Enough!”

“You’re going to marry _me_.  I can’t…,” he frowned, wrinkling his brow.  “You can’t leave.  Not again.  You will do this for me, even if I have to force you.  You’ll learn to love me again.”

Signe mumbled through the gag.  He shot her an accusatory look, as if he didn’t trust that he’d like what she had to say.  He almost kept her quiet, but her desperate eyes were begging him to remove the cloth.

Once he ungagged her, Signe wet her dry lips with her tongue.

“Loki, I’ll not wed you because you _demand_ it.”

When he reached to refasten the cloth over her mouth, because he most definitely didn’t want to hear what she _wouldn’t_ do, but she shook her head.

“No, stop.  Please”

Deep down, Signe _knew_ Loki, and knew this was Loki trying to be good.  For a man that was loath to feel vulnerable, he was risking everything by giving her a choice in the entire matter.  He was afraid to phrase it as an inquiry because it provided her to opportunity to _choose_ to say no.

Loki’s expression was wrought with uncertainty, but he allowed her to speak.

“Loki, you may _ask_ me to marry you.”

He made a face in distaste, but when she gave him a stern look, he obliged.

“Will you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Will you… marry me? Signe?”

“Yes, Loki.  I’ll marry you.’

Her expression turned serious.

“Because I love you, I understand you.  Though, consider this your warning:  I’ll no longer act the part of submissive consort at court.  The role benefits neither you nor our child.  You’ll treat me as your _wife_ and not as a plaything.  If you fail to do so, I reserve the right to correct your behavior.”

Loki cocked a brow and took a moment to consider her terms.  He was leery; she was much easier to control when the conditions between them required her to obey.  He knew Signe, the real Signe, was the hellcat that had _slapped_ the prince for the first time in his life.  She wouldn’t be easy to control, and he knew she would make good on her promise to chastise him.  He also knew he couldn’t be without her.

“All right.”

There.  He felt as if a suffocating weight had been lifted from his chest.  _She was his._

Loki glanced at cloth gagged balled up in his fist, and back down at Signe.  With a mischievous grin he blew gently into his palm, then sat up and freed her left hand from its invisible bonds, taking it between his.  She felt the chill of metal slide up her ring finger.

“May I see?”

Loki stared at her face, searching for even the slightest hint of deceit.  Signe relaxed beneath him and wrapped the fingers of her free hand around his in an attempt to prove she wasn’t going anywhere, not without him. 

After a moment he nodded and let both hands go free.

Signe gasped.  Her ring matched the collar; a moderately sized diamond sandwiched between two gleaming emeralds.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“Now, give us a kiss,” he purred, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile.

Signe fondly rolled her eyes with a smile before pressing her lips to his.  Loki returned the kiss greedily and grasped at her back for the laces of her dress. 

Mindful of her family sleeping in quarters nearby, Signe briefly considered refusing him.  But she knew he _needed_ to feel her, to be with her in order to believe that she’d be his.  Sometimes the only way to get through to the prince was carnally.

Signe wriggled beneath him until he let her lay on her tummy.  She could feel his nimble fingers loosening the strings until the back of her gown opened and slipped down her arms.  His hot breaths puffed against her back as he nuzzled his nose up along the elegant curve of her spine, making her shiver.  When he began pressing open mouth kisses against her shoulders, she whined and tried to turn but he held her in place.

“Not yet, kitten.”

Though she meant every word of the terms she set, Signe had admittedly planned on

making an exception to “the rules” when they were in bed.  Perhaps it was because he had directed her from the beginning, or maybe it was simply because she loved giving up control to him, but either way, she didn’t want a single aspect of their sex life to change after they married. 

            She more or less held still, unable to keep from rocking back to push her rear against the growing bulge in his trousers. 

Loki’s blunt teeth nipped sharply at her neck in warning and she stilled, but not without a dissatisfied “hmph”.  He quickly divested her of her undergarments, emitting a satisfied grunt at how soaked her panties were, leaving her deliciously nude while he was still completely clothed.

“Loki, please,” she moaned.

He nudged her up onto all fours and she exaggeratedly spread her thighs and stuck her ass out, arching her back and pillowing her face against the backs of her hands, making Loki groan in appreciation.

She felt his hands experimentally grip the curve of her hip and she started with a yelp when suddenly his palm collided with the left cheek of her arse.  Luckily for Loki, her yelp smoothly transitioned into a moan, especially when he stroked his hand over the hot, reddened handprint he’d left.  He patted her bottom regretfully before moving his hands elsewhere.

“Another time we’ll play more, darling,” he promised.  “I need to be inside you _now_.”

When he tugged her back against him, she realized he must have magicked away his own clothes, because his warm belly and groin were very much nude when he tantalizingly ran the angry red head of his swollen cock against her pussy, gathering a rather obscene amount of wetness from between her folds.

They both groaned, Signe desperately pushing her hips up and back, offering herself to him until she thought her spine would snap in two.  Loki seemed just as incapable of waiting.  He lined himself up against her and thrust teasingly, running his thick, velvety cock along the slick track of her cunt.  He could see her shoulders heaving with each breath she took and he felt himself grow even harder.  _She needed this as much as he did._

Loki mounted her, pressing a palm on her lower back to keep her down as he prodded her hot cunt with the weeping tip of his cock, slamming into her with a grunt as she accepted him obediently.  Without missing a beat, the prince withdrew, paused to regain his self-control lest he explode in her immediately, before hammering his hips against her rear, which provided much appreciated cushioning for his rough thrusts.  Skin slapping skin echoed off the stone walls, encouraging Loki’s animalistic rutting.

Before she could stop herself, Signe cried out in relief as he finally started pounding her.  In horror, she clutched the comforter to her mouth to stifle her noises. 

“Oh, no, darling,” he panted.  “You’ll not deny me your whimpers and cries.”

He pulled out of her, causing her to utter the most pathetic whine he’d ever have the pleasure of hearing.

“Shhh, my little peach,” she crooned, grapping her hips and flipping her onto her back.  In a daze, she lay there, her knees bent, legs spread so wide he could _see_ her cunt contracting, as if it were begging to drag him back inside her.

Signe gasped as he lunched forward, wrapping a hand around her throat.

“You’ll not silence yourself again, do you understand?”

Signe nodded, eyes wide and lips parted in shock as his fingers flexed, experimentally putting pressure on her windpipe.

“Good girl,” he growled and relaxed his grip on her neck, but didn’t release her.  He settled his weight on hers, his hips rocking brutally into her as she whimpered against his mouth.  He smashed his lips to hers in a rough, bruising, kiss, but she was so high on pleasure she didn’t feel the tiniest lick of pain.  When his tongue forced its way into her mouth, she demurely suckled at it, causing his growls and grunts to become even more feral.

Though she tried to keep herself quiet, the closer Loki fucked her to orgasm, the less she cared about controlling her volume level.  When she began keening, Loki rose up on his knees to elongate each deliciously savage pump of his hips.

Then, to her horror, he slowed.  The snap of his hips was just as sharp, but when he withdrew he made sure she felt every inch of him stroking her inner walls.  Signe cried out in dismay, wantonly bucking her hips up off the bed at him.  She was so fucking close.

“My Little Peach wants to come so badly, doesn’t she?”

Signe nodded, pathetic little tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Beg me, love,” he crooned into her ear.

She froze momentarily, unsure if she could bring herself to commit such a lewd act.  When he unexpectedly swiveled his hips she whimpered, pleasure overcame her and she lost all sense of dignity.

“Please, please, _please_ Loki,” she pleaded, “Please, I’ll do anything!”

Snarling, Loki’s hips erupted with a battering of kinetic energy, surely hammering into her with such force that walking the following day would prove to be a challenge.  He was unable to form words, but the noises that came deep from his throat were enough to convey his thoughts.

All of a sudden, Loki angled himself just right, and his rapid thrusts started sliding his hard cock against her gspot _just_ right.  Signe felt her eyes forced closed as her body reacted; something exploded in her lower belly and she shrieked as her prince fucked her though her orgasm.  She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, she could only feel the walls of her pussy flutter involuntarily around his pounding length as that coil deep inside her released with fury.

Loki’s thrusts were becoming erratic and she clutched dizzily his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth as his hips reared back and he slammed into her over and over, each powerful thrust fucking her body up the mattress.  With a roar, Loki came, flooding her with his hot seed. 

In an effort not to crush her, Loki rolled onto his back, taking Signe with him.  He wasn’t ready to leave her deliciously tight heat just yet.  As they both panted, Signe propped her chin up on her fist and watched him.  Sweaty, exhausted and spent, her prince looked content.  As long as their skirmishes ended like this, she’d happily spend the rest of her life with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, I'd love your input. Is there a desire for this to continue? I started to wrap it up but then second guessed myself. If you have an opinion I'd love to hear it!


	14. Keep Us Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one time those crazy kids got hitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is about to slip out of character at times. I can't bear for him to be miserable all the time.

That night set into motion a series of events and clandestine scheming.  Loki wanted to marry before they returned to the castle for two reasons: One, he’d already lost Signe twice.  He refused to risk losing her a third time.  Secondly, carrying a baby with Frost Giant blood didn’t constitute as a subtle pregnancy.  It had not yet been two months and Signe was already showing prominently.  If Odin were to find out that she was pregnant out of wedlock, he’d be furious and could potentially harm the baby.

They decided to marry before departing.  The ceremony was brief, but emotional.  Signe’s family knew what Loki meant to their daughter, but they also knew he had the capacity to hurt her more than anyone else in the Nine Realms.  When they heard the couple’s proposal, they initially resisted, prompting Signe gave them an ultimatum: Accept Loki as her husband or they’d leave Asgard and wed on Vanaheim.

 Reluctantly, and with a few tears, Signe’s parents gave her away to the Prince.  Perhaps the most moving portion of the ceremony was when Loki made a point to look both her mother and father in the eye, promising to love and cherish their daughter above all else for the rest of their lives.  The words were foreign in Loki’s mouth, but his own earnestness surprised him.  He truly meant it.

x

It was important the quietly castle prepare for their arrival to avoid detection by Odin.  Runa, Signe’s mother, covertly sent word to Frigga so the Allmother would be prepared for their children’s return to the palace.  Typically, a royal wedding took months to plan, but at the very most, Signe and Loki would have days before the risk to stay unwed (at least in the eyes of the Realm) became too great and Odin caught on to their scheme. 

During their remaining time at Signe’s home, Loki’s magic masked his wife’s belly to an extent, but the possessive Prince didn’t hide the fact that he was opposed to concealing her state.  He was quite proud that Signe was bearing his child and had absolutely no desire to disguise the fact that she belonged to him, but he understood the importance of doing so.  That did not, however, keep his hands off of the poor girl when they were together in public.

As if to restate his claim, the newlyweds spent the remainder of the week in bed, much to the embarrassment of Signe.  Loki threatened to amplify the sounds of their lovemaking if she didn’t allow herself to moan and whimper freely, so—of course—she was forced to comply.

When they emerged—nauseatingly smitten with one another—to the evening meal on their last night, Frigga’s response had been received.  Not at all surprising, the Queen was elated for her son and his bride and began preparations for the wedding to take place almost immediately once they arrived back at the palace.

After breakfast the next morning the couple began the two-day journey on horseback.  On the ride back to the castle, Signe and Loki shared a saddle.  The Prince flat out refused to allow his expecting wife to ride alone, so, despite her protestations, she spent the trip with her husband’s protective hand on her swollen belly.  Signe was constantly exhausted from the pregnancy, so though she spent several moments arguing her for sovereignty, when she gave in it was with a small amount of relief.  Being a strong, independent pregnant woman was more paradoxical than she expected. 

            x

Upon arriving at the palace, Loki carefully lifted his bride from their horse.  He refused to take his hands off of her, even when she proved she was steady on her feet.  The Prince was on guard, ready to protect his mate and their child from any perceived threat.  Balancing a hand on his shoulder, she stood on tiptoe to press a chaste kiss to his lips in reassurance, as if to say nothing would take her from his side.  Reassuringly she slid her fingers down his arm and guided his hand around her waist so it rested on her belly.  It took a moment, but eventually she watched his shoulders relax and felt his thumb stroking up and down her tummy.  The soothing act was likely more reassuring to him than to her, but she smiled nonetheless.  Together, they strode into the palace.

The castle was chaos.  Flocks of servants rushed about preparing for the wedding by polishing silver, setting tables, and hanging decorations.  Many, many years had passed since Asgard had seen a royal wedding and everyone was frenzied.

Loki immediately tensed upon entering the castle.  Gripping his fingers reassuringly, Signe looked up at him with concern.  She noticed the expression he wore was one of almost feral suspicion, like an animal facing a creature not yet identified as friend or foe.  On alert, he quickly escorted her through the hallways to meet with Frigga.

As the couple reached the Queen’s sitting room, all handmaidens were ushered out, leaving the three to speak in private.  The Allmother approached them with open arms and a watery smile.  Though she wanted to laugh with joy that her youngest had come to his senses and married to Signe, the vigilant, guarded expression on her son’s face made her chest tighten with uncertainty. 

When Loki made to step in front of Signe to use his body as a shield, his wife gently squeezed his arm.

“Loki,” she murmured in his ear, “Come, let us greet the Queen.”

She kissed his cheek and tenderly unwrapped his arm from her body, instead taking his hand in hers.

Loki went first to his mother, encircling her in his arms lovingly.  For several moments they spoke softly with words too quiet for Signe to hear.  Loki kissed his mother’s cheek and gave her a tired, but genuine, smile.

When the two women embraced, neither could hold back emotion.  The Queen pulled back and looked Signe up and down, coming close, but not quite, to clapping her hands in glee when Loki dropped the glamor that concealed her daughter-in-law’s belly.

Holding Signe’s face in her hands, Frigga used her thumbs to wipe away the girl’s tears and pressed a kiss to Signe’s forehead.

“Thank you for bringing him home, daughter."

x

Three days later, the (second) wedding ceremony began in the early afternoon.  Only Signe, her family, Loki and Frigga knew that the couple had already wed technically, but for the sake of Odin remaining ignorant of the pregnancy they proceeded with a grand rendition of a royal Asgardian ceremony.  The throne room glowed with hundreds of hovering votives, the walls were enchanted to look out over the cerulean ocean and rich tapestries were hung on walls, showcasing illustrations of the royal family dating back for centuries.  The entire space was filled with the nobility of Asgard, all eager to lay eyes on the new princess and wish the lovers good fortune.

Odin and Frigga sat in their respective thrones with Loki off to his side, standing stone still and proud, dressed in full armor.  Thor, beside Frigga, studied his nails disinterestedly, picking at remnants of dirt and grime acquired from the sparring pit. 

Every part of Loki focused on staying in place.  His instinct screamed at him to find Signe and hide her away in their rooms, keeping a watchful eye on both of them until their baby came.  Not many things terrified Loki, but Odin harming his family was one of them.

He eyed the King warily.  Did the Allfather know she was pregnant?  What if his magic wasn’t enough to completely conceal Signe’s state?  Would he stop the wedding once he saw her? Loki would die before he allowed Odin to inflict any pain on his bride, be it physical or emotional.  

Frigga sensed her youngest’s anxiety and cleared her throat, breaking Loki’s train of thought.  When her son glanced at her, she raised a brow, silently asking if he really thought she’d allow Odin to interfere.  He returned her look with a doubtful forced smile and a nod, but appreciated his mother’s unwavering support.

Though she knew he couldn’t see her, Signe caught a glimpse of Loki through the entryway.  The Princess smiled and shook her head with a smile as she watched him stare daggers at anyone daring enough to make eye contact.  She knew he wanted to be married as much as she did, but his distrusting nature amplified when it came to protecting her and the baby. 

Music sounded and her stomach fluttered as she gripped her rich green bouquet.  Signe insisted that the flowers match the collar around her neck, which she refused to remove for the ceremony.  The unconventional arrangement featured perfectly assembled Midgardian sunflowers, English garden roses, hosta leaves and hand-beaded florets.  

When Signe appeared at the throne room entrance there was a collective gasp from the audience.  The bride positively glowed and her and mouth was curved into a genuine smile.  (She was mostly glowing from pregnancy, but the wedding guests needn’t be privy to the fact.) Signe’s sleeveless white [gown](http://theweddingplans.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/wedding-dresses-ball-gown-wedding-dresses-with-sweetheart-neckline-17.jpg) glittered with tiny diamonds that embellished the entire bodice, and the skirt flared out form her hips to the floor, featuring a train several feet long. A young cousin of Loki’s was appointed flower girl and she carefully held Signe’s train in her little hands.  A sweetheart neckline nicely emphasized her growing bust, and thanks to Loki’s magic, her tummy looked flat.

As they walked, nothing in the world could’ve darkened Signe’s radiant smile as she met Loki’s eyes.  She had to force herself to walk to a slow rhythm so she didn’t run to her husband.  Loki strode forward and took her hand as she neared, easing her down to her knees as they both knelt before the King.  The ceremony proceeded much like traditional Midgardian weddings.  Facilitated by an apathetic Odin, vows and softly spoken words of promise were murmured between the couple.  When the time came, Signe nodded to the flower girl who she zipped excitedly to the couple, causing the audience to chuckle at her enthusiasm as she delivered the rings. 

Though her cheeks were ached from smiling, Signe couldn’t force herself to stop.  Gingerly she took Loki’s left hand and slid a platinum ring studded with a large emerald onto his slender finger.  Loki, in turn pulled her hand to his mouth, his eyes on hers as he kissed the back of her hand.  He held his breath as he slipped Signe’s ring, flaunting two emeralds on either side of a large diamond, onto her finger.  Both rings and her necklace completed a matching set.  Even though all of this wedding business was repetition, he let out a breath of relief once Signe became his in front of the kingdom.

Odin sniffed and brought his staff down to the floor with three loud knocks and muttered some closing remarks. The crowd erupted into applause when the couple stood and Loki wrapped an arm around a laughing Signe’s waist, dipping her back and leaning forward to seal his mouth over hers.  By the time the lengthy kiss finished, the bride’s cheeks glowed pink from her husband’s enthusiasm.  She had a feeling Loki would never forgo an opportunity to stake his claim over her in front of an audience, but she was growing to view it as an endearing quality.  Between Signe being forced to leave when they were young, ongoing competition with Thor growing up, and learning that he his “family” wasn’t his by blood, Loki had so few things that were _his_.  Odin’s pride was placed almost completely on his eldest, and the younger prince had suffered deeply when he’d learned he was a creature parents scared their children with.  Now, Signe was _his_ wife, the mother of _his_ child and he would never let them go.  They were his own.

x

Their wedding feast surely went down in history as the most epic royal celebration to date.  Guests ate, drank, laughed and danced until the sun rose the following morning.  The couple retired long before the evening ended.  After several goblets of wine, Loki’s affections turned inappropriate, to say the least.  Signe continuously slapped his hands away from her thighs and near the end she was fairly certain her neck and chest sported several love marks.  She couldn’t bring herself to deny her husband, she’d _never_ seen him so jovial (Loki’s version of jovial, at least) and it was contagious.  Knowing that she contributed to his genuine happiness made her heart soar.

On the walk back to their rooms, Loki sobered enough to pin her to the stone wall.  She spent ten seconds trying to push him away, but on the eleventh she surrendered and melted into him.  When his hands cradled her face, she couldn’t refuse his hungry mouth.  He kissed the breath from her lungs, leaving her desperate for air but unable to pull herself away from him.  Finally, as she was about to explode, she broke away, holding his face in her heads.  She laughed self-consciously at their public display and hid her face against his neck. 

Loki’s hands began to wander.  When the dress zipper eluded him, he began to tug at the sweetheart neckline, making more laughter bubble from Signe as she smacked his hands away.  Her giggles were rudely interrupted when Loki worked a thigh between her legs and lifted her an inch off the ground, forcing her core to rock against the hard muscles of his leg.  Signe knew she had only moments before her brain became absolutely useless against her husband’s affections and managed to nip at his jaw hard enough that he pulled back from her, pouting at being interrupted.  Unable to help herself, she consoled him, stroking the side of his face as she slid her lips against his once more.  What was meant as a brief kiss of reassurance turned, as expected, heated once again.  It wasn’t until they heard voices echoing in the halls that they forced themselves apart and retreated to their chambers.

Tripping through the door over one another, Loki made quick work of Signe’s dress.  He finally found the zipper and eagerly dragged it down.  He peeled her out of her dress, his hands detouring on their way down with greedy caresses to her body.  The prince moaned when her dress fell to the floor revealing her completely nude body.

“Wife, had I know you wore nothing beneath your dress, we never would have made it to the ceremony,” he purred in her ear.

Signe flushed and began tugging at his clothes.  So many times he’d taken her while almost completely dressed, or undressed only after they’d finished.  Tonight she wanted to see all of him.  His bride began to sink to her knees, pulling feverishly at his armor, only to be interrupted.  With a grin and a wave of his hand, Loki was just as nude as she was, his hard length bobbing proudly against his belly.

When he pulled her near the bed, Signe playfully pushed against the Prince’s chest and Loki fell back with a dramatic “oomph.”  Though she was timid at first, there was an underlying sense of confidence as she knelt on the bed and prowled over her husband’s body.  Trapping his cock between them, Signe experimentally slid her slick pussy against her husband, causing them both to groan. 

His wife experimented thoroughly, testing pressures and angles and learning to fluidly thrust her hips.  She was driving Loki positively mad.  His hands roamed along her sides, back and down to her hips, desperately trying to rock her against him.

After several moments of torture, Signe leaned forward with her hands planted on his chest and looked at him with uncertainty.

“Loki?”

She needed him.  The fact that she was asking him for direction only made him want her more.  He wasted no time lining himself up against her, groaning deep in his throat at how wet she was.  With one hand on his cock and the other on her hip, he eased her down onto him.  Signe’s head dropped forward as he slid into her, both of them moaning in unison. 

Once settled, she curiously rocked her hips, making noises she wasn’t aware of as she found things she liked.  Loki clutched the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his.  As the kiss intensified, her hips involuntarily began to thrust over him in a steady rhythm.  She wouldn’t have been able to keep herself still even if she wanted to.  Her Prince’s kisses had the power to turn her brain to complete mush.  His lips on hers transformed her into a feral creature, capable only of rutting in tandem with the thrust of their tongues.

Loki watched his wife push herself back up with her hands on his chest.  His eyes closed and his jaw went slack as she increased her rhythm, driving her hips against his.  When her whimpers reached an especially high pitch, he knew she was close.  He forced himself to open his eyes; the Prince wanted to watch her face as she came.  Loki aided her with one hand on her hip, the other he selfishly placed on her belly as he began growling at her.

“Love watching your belly swell with my child.  Could not keep my hands off you before, now it’s tenfold.  Cannot let another man touch you, look at you without making sure he knows you’re _mine_ ,” he grunted.

Signe really made an effort to be a modern woman.  Seriously.  She believed men and women were equals and should treat each other as such, but there was just something so primal about her husband needing to possess her that sent shivers down her spine.  He continued whispering to her that she was his, that he would die before he let her go, and each word that tumbled from his mouth shot straight to her lower belly. 

As she neared the edge, Signe feared she didn’t have the strength to keep pumping her hips, but Loki helped her rock which finally made that tightening coil spring free.  She keened and arched her back, thrusting against him wildly as she came.

While still catching her breath, Loki flipped them in a single roll, pinning her beneath him.  Still panting, Signe cupped his face lovingly and he kissed her palm, looking her in the eye before setting a brutal rhythm that made them both groan.  His bride was too fatigued to return his thrusts, so he leaned back and scooped an arm under each bent knee, effectively opening her for him so he could easily slam into her. 

The change in position made Signe’s back arch as she cried out which only spurred Loki on.  Keeping one of her legs raised high, he let the other fall and gave his free thumb a lick.  He knew she was sensitive from coming only several minutes before, but he couldn’t help himself.  Gently he rubbed tight little circles around her clit, making her shriek and toss her head back and forth as he drove her again towards her second peak. 

Loki reared back and began thrusting with vigor, his hips snapped against hers with an echoing clap of skin on skin.  With an animalistic grunt, Loki came, setting Signe off on her second orgasm.  Loki’s thrusts were frenzied as he emptied his hot seed into her throbbing cunt, making poor Signe’s hips jerk each time his pelvis hit her deliciously sensitive little pearl. 

Her husband all but collapsed next to her.  She missed feeling his weight on her body, but when she felt his hand gently rubbing her belly, she knew he was too much of a mother hen to risk any harm coming to the baby by settling his weight on her.

Curling against him, she turned on her side, studying his expression intently.

“Husband?”

“Yes, Wife?” 

“I am yours.  In every way.  You will never rid yourself of me.  Do you understand?”

She watched as he swallowed and noticed his Adam’s Apple bob.

“Yes, Signe, I understand.  And in return, I’m as every bit yours.”

She kissed away the tiniest bit of moisture from his cheek, then moved her mouth to his lips.  They lay in bed until the sun rose, kissing and laughing and murmuring to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this. Thank you everyone for your comments, kudos! If you liked AAR, you may like Hush which is the sequel. :)


	15. Love the Guy (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one time Loki was a helicopter parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally understand that, were being realistic, these kids would be using a wet nurse. But can you really picture the Loki that's developed in this story thinking anyone besides Signe is good enough for his child? Nope, me either. So, no wet nurse, and no Asgardian babysitters. We're kicking it old school and using family.

Signe’s pregnancy was one month short of what was typical in Asgard, likely due to their baby’s Frost Giant heritage.  Birth lasted a grueling thirteen hours, during which Loki refused to eat or sleep.  He stayed at Signe’s side, crooning to her and offering his hand to grip when it came time to push.  Listening to her screams was agonizing, and he instructed her to squeeze his hand with all her might.  Unfortunately for his phalanges, Signe had quite a grip.  Even when he felt the crack of bone Loki steadfastly stayed next to her, ignoring the pain radiating through his hand.  When Njall finally entered the world, his father’s eyes didn’t stray from his son for a second.

Once the newborn was cleaned, swaddled and in his mother’s arms, the healers advanced upon Loki to tend to the Prince’s battered hand.  The severe look Loki shot them made both women reel, and shortly after they decided it best to excuse themselves and give the family privacy.

Loki glared at them as they left, then turned to his wife and son.  The Prince couldn’t take his eyes from the baby nursing at Signe’s breast.  Njall’s skin was fairer than either of theirs with just the slightest undertone of blue which contrasted beautifully with his ebony tuft of hair.  When his hazel eyes began to close, his mother rocked him, watching him adoringly until she was certain he was asleep.  Softly she murmured for Loki to take him.

The look that emerged on Loki’s face was one of pure terror.  Signe looked at him sternly, refusing to let his self-loathing and doubt prevent her husband from bonding with their child.  It was his right.  Both father and son deserved each other’s love.

“Hold his head,” she instructed, tenderly cupping his hand with her own, “Yes, just like that,” she murmured with a sleepy smile.  His face contorted with fear as he surveyed his sleeping son, as if waiting for the child to awake and reject him.  After several moments when no such thing happened, the man’s shoulders relaxed and he breathed a sigh of tentative relief.

As Signe’s eyes slid shut, Loki cautiously walked with Njall to the window, crooning to the sleeping baby how one day the little Prince would become the greatest ruler Asgard had ever seen.

Loki toured the room with Njall, whispering praise and promising him all sorts of things, such as to teach him to read, about magic and to how to play tricks on his dull uncle. 

The Prince surrendered his child only when Njall began to wail, turning an unattractive shade of red.  Loki, the poor dear, appeared more inconsolable than the infant when he was unable to comfort his son.

Smiling tiredly, Signe managed to make room for Loki on her bed and patted the empty space. 

“There are some things only a mother can provide, my love,” she gently reminded him, unfastening the top of her gown and holding her arms open.  When the fabric fell from her chest, revealing her swollen breasts, Loki’s eyes glazed over.  If it weren’t for her delicate state and the presence of their child, she was certain he’d have been on her before she could blink.

“Loki,” she chided fondly.  He shook himself out of his breast-induced stupor and strode forward, offering Njall to Signe.

“Sit with me,” she urged him. 

He slid behind her and she reclined against him, immediately comforted by his confident hold on her and the feeling of his hard, muscled chest against her back.  Her head dropped against his shoulder as the baby nursed greedily, his face eventually returning to its normal shade of icy porcelain.

Once fed, Signe leaned forward to delicately place the baby in the swiveling bedside bassinette only for Loki to intercept him. 

“You sleep, I’ll hold him,” he reassured her.

Nodding, she smiled proudly, beaming with confidence in her husband’s parenting skills.  She drifted to sleep dreaming of Loki one day laughing and playing with their child.

x

Thank the Nornir Loki was the attentive helicopter parent of the two, because Signe simply didn’t have the energy.  Often it was her husband who brought the fussy baby to her in the middle of the night, helping him attach to her breast before insistently slipping behind mother and son, holding them both until they fell back asleep. 

During his checkups, Loki was reluctant to hand his child over to the healers.  Signe couldn’t help but find it adorably endearing.  He huffed and puffed, trying to scare them off from poking and prodding his child.

“Loki, stop bullying her and let them see him,” she laughed.

Her husband glared at her, irritated that his wife found humor in such a situation.  His son should be held only by himself or his mother.  Not these imbecilic strangers.

“Loki,” she warned.

The Prince sighed in resignation and pursed his lips before tenderly depositing his son’s tiny form into the (truly) capable hands of the healer.

x

Signe was entirely indifferent to her residual pregnancy curves.  Loki most certainly was not.  Once she healed, he demonstrated his appreciation on a nightly basis.  They fell into a pattern of Loki creating a glowing, green, one-way soundproof dome over their son, allowing him to sleep deeply to the sound of a quiet lullaby crooned in Loki’s voice.

His parents, on the other hand, used the few spare minutes they were able to sneak off—be it during day or night—reacquainting their bodies with one another.

Loki was fascinated by her breasts, the exaggerated swell of her hip and her pillowed tummy.  When her body started slimming naturally from breastfeeding, he insisted she eat more, claiming that she was beginning to get too thin and would soon be inadequate at feeding their son.

Signe had rolled her eyes and eventually Loki forgot all about plumping her back up.   As Njall grew, the Prince instead found himself preoccupied cataloguing each new noise and expression his son made to in order to gauge his development and whether or not he was meeting his milestones.

Eventually, Loki grew comfortable with Frigga, and even Odin and Thor (under _close_ supervision) holding his baby.  The Queen was beside herself with joy as parentage and marriage forced the Prince to get out of his own dark mind.  He was incapable of his normal feigned indifference when it came to Signe and Njall.  His family gave him a purpose his like lacked previously.

x

Baby Njall cooed and grabbed the air with his little fists as Loki stroked an elegant hand over his son’s dark downy hair.  Frigga spoke quietly with Signe near the door to the Queen’s rooms.  The Prince cleared his throat.

“I don’t think I should leave hi—.”

Signe cut him off.

“My Prince, if you don’t retire to our quarters with me for a night together without the baby, I will take Njall on a visit to my parents’ _alone_.”

It was an empty threat.  She knew Loki would never allow such a thing.  The instances in which was forced to leave his son were miserable for all involved.  When visiting other realms on behalf of the royal family, Loki was apparently more intolerable than usual; sour, sullen and cross until he finally returned home to his family and held his son and wife in his arms.

Signe chuckled at his glare and slipped her arm in his as he turned to his mother.

“Don’t let the servants touch him,” Loki ordered.

“Of course, my son.  Now, away with you both,” she said, shooing them from her rooms.After an hour or so, the Queen was forced to close the doors to her wing of the castle; it appeared as if the noises coming from her son and daughter-in-law’s chambers were not ceasing any time soon.  She smiled.  Finally, his heart had returned and her son was content.  (As far as Loki and contentment went.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have no fear, these two are far from finished! Keep an eye out for a sequel. :) Thank you so much to ALL of you!


End file.
